Author: jackiewrightauthor

Matches

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We are not supposed to run towards the fire,

We are not meant to burn things we admire.

Yet, we step over instincts like cigarette butts,

All for some new taste to disrupt our ruts.

And I was the first fire you could not put out,

You would have used fists if that was allowed.

My voice raised alarms and broke some fences,

Two days later you ran out of defenses.

You hated my guts, yet you could not leave.

Some would even mistake the pressure for gleam.

The magnetic field never let you off the hook,

Your instincts got burned, you went off book.

I burned you alive as the crowd was watching,

Still, you gave me all your spare matches.

-JW

Crystal Clear

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I see it crystal clear now, I am just a steppingstone for your ambition.

It hurts to know you only smile when I hand you my hard-earned ammunition.

When you fire away at them, you use me as your bulletproof glass,

Then leave me alone when I stumble home, wounded and lacking your class.

You spill your drinks on my pastel dresses and laugh whenever I protest.

I wonder what would happen if I became the antagonist and make you confess.

Still, my disgrace precedes me, all because of your unapologetic tongue.

And I am not sure if I care anymore, you ruined me when I was way too young.

Their cheap talk runs by my ears like a river you wanted to drown me in.

They all know you do not love me, yet they all know I am your favorite sin.

I see it crystal clear now, you want to smother me in the cheapest of deceits.

It must hurt to know that it is you, not me heading towards the great defeat.

-JW

Godlike

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All your long overdue confessions,

Spill them on fools seeking perfection.

Wear your chasuble and say a prayer,

But do not follow me down, betrayer.

All these glorious monologues to god,

Save them for the fools who just nod.

I do not walk beyond the ordinary,

Rewrite my biography as a mortuary.

-JW

Exiled

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I was the shark you always feared to swim into,

But your open arms made me feel like you were not afraid.

And the time passed by like a catchy melody until you realized,

Until all my past sins came out of the shade.

I admit it, my teeth rip apart bloated egos for pleasure,

But your bubble seemed sinless, so I steered clear of you.

There was something in your eyes that made me cautious,

And then came the day you painted me blue.

I know, they still recite my words like a famous poem.

But you did not expect it, no, you have lived in silence too long.

Now the distance you keep makes my grin cheerful,

You know you have done one too many wrongs.

I hear them talking, and the story disgusts you,

But it is too late to change that narrative for the crowd.

And your actions might have been foolish or misguided,

Still, they grow louder and louder whenever you turn around.

I was the shark you never expected to take you down,

You cut me to size like someone with a naivety of a child.

And your radar did not pick up a sound as I approached

Until your kingdom was gone, and you were exiled.

-JW

Recipe For Failure

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They take me in pinches, then throw me overboard.

They waste me like something they cannot afford.

The salt in my saliva gets mixed with their tears.

It’s the recipe for failure, it’s a hurricane of fears.

They spread my thoughts on their walls like paint,

Then use my eyeballs as lamps, classy and quaint.

The sour sentences I spew get collected in bowls,

And they use my brain to fill rifts and holes.

They scrub my consciousness with their dirty paws,

They wrap my skull in some yellowish gauze.

The bitterness is quickly climbing up my throat,

But the anchor in my chest is keeping me afloat.

So, they massage me into their scalps with vigor.

They watch me collapse in front of their triggers.

The last of my trust decays until nothing is left.

It’s a recipe for failure, it’s a rope around my neck.

-JW

Holy

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I’ll write a new letter for every day that you cheat me away from you.

Nothing good ever comes from dimly lit romances in motel rooms.

You knew last week, and you know it now, but you still cannot face it.

Your pride is a smoking gun drawn in the sand and I’m the eraser.

I’ll write a note on my phone for every minute you avoid my glares.

Nothing fair ever comes from kisses stolen through childish dares.

And I hear you outside of my door again, coming up with excuses.

I swear to god, all the great love stories were once mistaken for nooses.

I’ll write a pathetic melody for every year you forget my birthday.

Nothing rosy ever comes from broken glasses in a crystal ashtray.

There’s electricity in the silence you offer me when I feel lonely,

And I wish you knew how this numbness tastes, but you’re too holy.

-JW

The Prophecy

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The early morning sun fell gently on your shoulders that day.

Your words cut me right between the ribs

And sawed me until you had nothing else left to say.

The rumors fly in small towns like ours, I should have known.

Soon enough I was the only culprit,

And you were the man in the newly polished crown.

The neighbors celebrated you, they pitied my weak resistance.

My story was wiped out with the waters,

And you threatened to do the same to my existence.

The open wound on my side felt rawer as the days went by.

You kept sharpening your tongue

And insisted I will not see peace until I apologize.

But one early morning the sun never made it over the horizon.

The tears you cried, they were cold,

And they did not keep the others from theorizing.

The soles of your shoes grew thin as you were seeking me.

Your thoughts cut you right below the throat,

And the whispers you heard sounded like a prophecy.

-JW

I Don’t Deserve This Power

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I wish it was easier to put down the weight,

I wish I could release all this power and flee.

But my mind reshuffles the thoughts I hate,

Hoping I can never end this killing spree.

My lips shoot arrows, eyes – lightning bolts.

The crimson clouds destroy gilded palaces.

I could build a house from the grudges I hold,

Fill all cups with my counterfeit promises.

So, I carry the stones in my pockets,

Snarling angrily at everyone who flies above.

My stares become dull, wounding both eye sockets,

They throw frozen tears at the whitest doves.

I wish it was harder to tear others down,

I wish I could stop bleeding on every passer-by.

Yet, my thoughts buzz around, forming a crown,

And I continue this crusade without an alibi.

-JW

Never Your Wreck

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In my head I am rewriting every story you told me.

You made me promise I would keep them,

But, honey, that was the old me.

And the ink bites the cuts on my palms with jealousy.

You swore I was your winning piece,

Still, you never owned a part of me.

Every street in my hometown makes me think of you.

I said a million little things,

None of them heartfelt or true.

This castle of lies hangs above my head like a nimbus.

Difficult to carry alone,

Easier than imploding Olympus.

And the dust settles on my lapel like little bits of regret.

I shake them off with disgust,

Hoping to erase the day that we met.

In your mind I have your story tattooed on my neck.

You forced me to learn it by heart,

But, honey, I was never your wreck.

-JW

Good Guys

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It is always about the choices that we make.

But their weak backs –

No, they can never break.

No one wants to hear that he was violent,

Life goes on swimmingly,

And bruised lips are kept silent.

If I hear one more lighthearted excuse,

I will scream like a burning siren:

“But I refused.”

The pain comes up as the anger grows deeper.

I heard them say it once,

“She wasn’t a keeper.”

How dare you say these cursed words aloud?

My life is a gallows hill,

And it is gathering a crowd.

Even good guys burn witches, it’s true,

Because their weak backs,

They are steppingstones for fools.

But it is always the choices that we make.

Why ask for permission

If you can just take?

-JW