Month: Feb 2025

His Twists And Turns

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A great worm twists within me, trying to push forward.
If he wasn’t this ugly, I would’ve given him the foreword.
Bites cover my sleeves like participation trophies,
And I want to chew his head off for never saying sorry.

My guts are a dessert wicked men serve for dinner.
I’ve lost my self-esteem, but I don’t think I’m the sinner.
He consumed me like a meal, yet it made him sick.
The soft spot in my heart turned to cold, red brick.

When his teeth clenched my spine in a vanishing glory,
The calmness in my breaths made him feel slightly worried.
A door opened; I ran. He couldn’t even follow.
What he thought was my life was just a tiny hollow.

The great worm rots within me, screaming for air.
If he wasn’t this cruel, I would’ve given him care.
Scars paint my skin with blood of angry spirits.
Your reputation has only eleven minutes left,

Before I break it apart,
Play your favorite parts,
Kill the worm,
Make you squirm.
You gave me your word.

I hate hoarding useless junk.
You’re a rotten beast dressed as an accused monk.
Yet, a mercy killing isn’t a murder after all.
Please rest assured, no one will answer your call.
A great worm twists within me, lonely and broke.
If he wasn’t this mean, I’d have made him a joke.

-Jackie

Two White Pages

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While I sit here, rereading the pages of last year,

Repeating lines I wish I didn’t have to hear,

The light buzzes above me, accusing me of lies,

And I’m not sure what stopped me from sure demise.

A papercut stings my palm, making me pause.

A dramatic ending, but I don’t hear the applause.

Two white pages stick together like new lovers.

Do I separate the pair, or can they be without each other?

The title of the story rings a bell, and I jump.

Dear reader, I wish I could say the night was young,

Or that the streets were empty, or that I was freezing…

There wasn’t an excuse; there wasn’t a reason.

Vivid words on the page describe how you touched me.

I didn’t protest or try to end it abruptly.

There’s no use in trying to recall your sweet breath.

Your touch haunts my body like gilded regret.

The lines we crossed bit us as soon as it ended.

Who did you think you knew and befriended?

Why did I leave, and how did that make you feel?

No answers come, even when I pray and kneel.

While I sit here, rereading the pages of that night,

Reheating cold memories that wiggle and bite,

I know they kept me intact with their sharp spikes,

But, dear reader, I still wish that he were mine.

-Jackie