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The Tale. In its entirety.

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The way you look at lips gets me suspicious but, I promise, I won’t judge

When you’re on the porch, asking for my forgiveness as your wife still holds a grudge.

I assume you didn’t tell the tale in its entirety either.

Only some bits. Only some pieces. You were never a bleeder,

Always the one leaving scratchless, without a wound to your honor.

The second sharp words are thrown, oh baby, you’re a goner.

Your face could heal a hundred scars if you didn’t sell it out to every fool

Who feeds on broken hearts. But I’m not surprised when you’re a tool

To all of them – who can play it cool. They know better, they don’t just drool

Over their cheap glass promises – that are also deemed as priceless.

What happened? Why did you leave broke and diceless?

I’m a daydream turning into a nightmare right before your eyes

Wish I could give you a warning about how being a jerk might hurt a bit.

Sorry, I didn’t leave a light on for you – but not like you’re not used to taking a hit.

Sorry, I can’t hide you from the tentacles of truth anymore. I don’t want to.

Hope there’s someone else buying into your auctions, and your cheap ass tattoo.

Don’t take it wrong – my apologies mean nothing, and I learned it from you trying

To pull a truth out of a magician’s hat filled with dead rabbits and your fake crying.

-JW

The Town We Once Walked

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They’re building a casino on the corner we first met.

What a cliché – greed replacing our spot for watching the sun set.

The shop where I bought you socks is closing down,

Maybe it’s too late to ask whether you frown

Before putting them on and going your separate way in our streets –

The town we once walked together is changing, no longer fitting our needs.

The café I told you the truth burned down a week ago, last Tuesday,

And without it the square resembles the doomsday

But only a tiny bit. The rest is plastic and still looks fine.

I’d assume you could still find a nice place there to take her and dine.

Ah, the reality bites harshly, yet the imagination tortures my pride –

What the hell happened? Why did I run? Why did you hide?

It’s not fair of me to put our past ahead of the future you’re planning.

However, I can’t rest in peace with all the verities you’re banning

From your new found realities. These past years have done enough damage –

Of course, would be ironic if we for once decided to salvage

Something that’s sacred and close. Can we even manage?

Loving you still is such a disadvantage.

Ravage. Baggage.

Nothing good ever comes out of two vanished souls trying to escape, to banish

Until we tarnish

When all we really needed was a bandage.

-JW

Distracted

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I’m sitting here, comforting myself – and there’s no one else

I’d rather trust to hold me.

My pounding heart demands a sacrifice each night,

It hopes to die so boldly.

The veins have turned to mist, another substance

They can’t truly carry.

I always think I’m falling when I’m out of secrets

Left to bury.

Living is the strangest thing if you’re alone

But you’re not really lonely.

It almost feels like you’ve made friends with fiction, and for that –

Others call you unholy.

Being the keeper of my youth and audacity to take cover

Might be an extravagant act,

But who is to judge the difference between curses to heaven

And a genuine fact?

Don’t lose your tact

When you are attacked.

The arena is packed

But you don’t have to react.

Distract.

-JW

A Single Rose

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Whimsical headlines of breaking news pop up on my screen.

I don’t see them – it’s another evening where the world seems so mean.

I hate everyone I’ve ever known again as they simply don’t listen,

They just sit there and watch me burn, pretending I glisten.

Nobody knows me but they act as they do – the effort’s all mine,

I made sure to write down their habits, old crushes and zodiac sign.

There’s these paragraphs floating and building a story in my mind

Of each person that I know – their life stories, and what they left behind.

I could write a book about every human I’ve ever cared about at the slightest

But I don’t think it ever worked both ways, their ideas of me remained lightless.

Out of vices most difficult for me to carry, egoism is the one to crush my shoulders –

When I’ve told you three times and you insist on not caring, it’s my mental state that smolders.

But if it’s not the case, and out of nothing I’m feeling this rage…

What do you know about me, then? My second name, hometown or age?

What’s the book I read on the train when I was 15 that was missing a page?

What foods do I hate and why do I avoid bars at all costs?

What’s the color of my bag that I once so stupidly lost?

Do you know these answers, do you know the most?

Or are you just another ghost

Stumbling up on the pieces of someone you once called close

To put down a single rose?

-JW

Notes on a napkin

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How do I let you go?

Have asked myself a hundred times, a thousand times more

Than would be needed – if I had the intention to stop wanting you,

Not longing for you anymore.

I don’t and it drives me insane.

There are these ticks and anxieties I get when you speak,

But I know that the anger will fade

And next morning you’ll still be the thing I seek.

How do I forget how much I love you?

I hate you still about the things you said a week ago

But I can’t wait for you to uncover another cover that I blew.

You sink me just to keep me unharmed – and afloat.

There’s nothing I need more desperately than you by my side when it gets rough.

You’ll never learn about the times you saved me – as it’s not enough.

I feel like I can climb into your mind sometimes and all I find is devotion,

Seasoned heavily by damaged goods, looking for that special potion

That will get your huddled shoulders one more opportunity to be sincere.

You still don’t get it but your shortcomings make people cohere.

Your smile works like poison as it makes me die a little in my sleep –

But that’s another vision I’m not allowed to keep

When I finally wake up and you’re not there.

Were you ever really squeezing my waist, were you really here?

I don’t know anymore, and hopefully – one day I will not care.

You’ll be just a name I don’t want to hear.

So how do I let you go? How do I forget you?

How do I wake up one morning willing to regret you?

Will you leave yourself if I ever let you?

Do I throw a little funeral and see where the wind carries the ashes?

Is it going to be an open road or a city with bright neon flashes?

Do I just sit and watch as the time passes?

How do I let you go?

-JW

playing jesus

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Three days ago I was head over heels for you. I was craving

Passion so disloyal it had a hit on my moral savings.

The fire exits were blocked and Missio was playing –

I couldn’t make sense of myself, but the reviews were raving.

Two days ago I had envisioned our first crash together,

Like two junkies, and you giving me a jacket in cold weather.

Or did you hate the plan from my very first dream, altogether?

Was it just me thinking of two cigarette buds as of birds of a feather?

Yesterday you had to enter the room twice before I noticed –

Out of the low hanging fruits, you reached for the lowest.

It must’ve really stung when you saw yourself falling out of focus

But don’t call yourself the victim when your alibis are bogus.

Today you shot your warnings and ended up gravely heedless.

It’s funny to think – I don’t know a person that I could need less.

Despise that the warmth of your neck still leaves me speechless.

Must’ve been a nightmare if I decided to fall for another one

In a desperate need to be jesus.

-JW

Frosty Paws

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To all the people in silver armors, high end saddles and low end taste

I bow so deeply it cracks my bones. They’re the meanest dragons that I’ve faced.

Too faced – everyone lacks one perspective as they see all the plot holes

And all the ways to get the deal through. Chasing money like stumbling foals.

Frosty paws get stuck on unsafe paths in places where stopping is a sentence

Of life spent is rotating fields of nothing – so you better run from that fake vengeance.

But how come we trust the system after it fools us twice before the alarm starts?

Did we simply nod when they said – you’re the target, circumstance is the darts?

There are 500 ways to write yourself out of the simulation this very second –

How could it be there’s only one narrow line you decided to reckon?

Furthermore, is it pure luck we’re born starving but manage to keep it at bay each morning?

I don’t know a lot about mourning.

But I trust that every fool in shiny helmet who chases money is doomed

As great ideas seldom come to minds very well groomed.

I know a thing or two about getting my frosty paws trapped in grounds

Where you never want to be seen by larger crowds.

It’s cold out there for us who don’t believe in glitz of serving

The ultimate purpose of always earning.

How much are you learning?

-JW

What Would Have Been

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Would it be so wrong if I grabbed your hand?

And if I did, where on my body would your arm land?

Would it make someone cry if you touched my lips

with your gaze for one more second?

I don’t mind at all if in your life I always come in as second.

Would I take it too far if I never looked away?

Your eyes were stuck on mine, and I wish that they could stay.

Would you still make me laugh if we weren’t just friends?

Would you like me without jewelry and playful pretends?

With every moment you’re bringing me up from the underwater.

I can’t wait to take the first breath, to not feel stuck.

Please pull me out. And do it faster.

Reach for me and take me out of the rut.

The space I’ve kept has been there for too long.

Please, squeeze my fingers three times, like in that song…

***

Would it be so wrong?

Or did you fake it all along

And is it not me that you long

To pull close? Could be, I suppose.

But would that be so wrong?

-JW

Leaving the Sin City

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Crime infested holy cities filled with lovers gone mad out of satiety,

Hidden in sparkling sacred water, writing their penal codes of impropriety.

I’m too tame for this lonely town of looney tunes – I don’t have much hope in society.

Yet – I can’t make it alone, so please pardon my selfishness and compliancy.

Too long I’ve traveled these roads on my own, lost track of it a few mistresses ago.

I’ve never loved anyone that I could have but their ghosts still follow wherever I go.

It’s hard to carry those shadows down dusty fields or wily mountaintops though –

But there’s nothing more dangerous than taking your past for granted. So I carry it,

Through the ice and snow.

On weekends my brain takes me to a place I want to wake up in when I’m dead.

Sadly, it doesn’t make any sense – the sin cities I fled hold me by a phantom thread,

They pull me into the bright carousels of cheap whiskey kisses. The tap tastes like led.

When your temptations call for you, you pay for them in the skins you shed.

Otherwise, they might take your head.

-JW

Another ABBA song

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Sudden sparks of passion and subtle love is all you’ve wanted to give

When everything I asked for was honesty – because I don’t have time to kill.

To my caring sentiments you never respond with effort, but the second I turn

Is when you decide to crawl back? Are you finally out of women to burn?

My jokes you don’t understand when they’re teasing.

The only time I’ve seen you cry is when I left you desperate and freezing.

But I’m done with the chase, and you hate me for daring

To not hold you down until I hear swearing. Or tearing

Of my already sore patience when it comes to you and your kind.

If you thought I would fall, you’re the one that’s out of the mind.

And I’m sorry it’s only your shortfalls we’re addressing.

However, all you see in me is another girl – in a different dressing.

Or is it not like that and your lack of answers should sound intriguing?

But then again – you must be the only soul whose red signs I’m not reading.

You know, I wrote this when another ABBA song was playing on the radio

In my neck of the woods. Where you always lose me – and I want to let it go.

Yet the way you swallow me slowly, re-do the interior of my moral code

Makes me think twice before leaving, before hitting the road.

Maybe your insanities are keeping me from overload.

But maybe in the series of my life you’re the most tragic episode.

(I would’ve bowed at the end – if the life lightened the load.)

-JW