The first one will bury your mind’s worst graveyards,
He’ll dig to cement some sense in your broken parts
to make boulevards. Or counterparts.
Serving him proves your desire and the remarkable skill,
Yet they seem not to notice the sadness and the sleeping pills.
(From now on will call the suicide attempts
unconfirmed kills.)
The second one’s someone with a magnetic field,
He’s the one to attract, you’re the one to shield.
Although well aware he’s the one to cause trauma,
He’ll blame you for wasted love and for drama.
His presence will haunt you and swallow your pride
(because months back you wanted to be his bride).
The last one will stay, through harsh and through mellow,
She’ll change dark blue into canary yellow.
You won’t notice, but one day she’ll pack and she’ll run,
And your curses will feel like a midnight sun
To her disappearing silhouette,
Dead set, like the day we met.
***
My brain is a wasteland for your bitterness
And your bites, so vain, stink like helplessness.
Yet you manage to stain every fragment and pore.
Yes, your words turn me into another whore,
A slave for money, still so goddamn poor.
The loneliness unwraps, it’s hollow and soar.
Run to the door. Slowly, my dear, a little bit more.
When the breeze hits your face, the fanfares of escape will roar
Bullets will cover my sloop of war.
***
I haven’t yet met a monster so unlovable:
That sentence in it self is disprovable
Yet probable.
Ironical.
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 