Moving On

Photo by Marcelo Dias

Once I was done pointing fingers,

My reflection lost its devil’s horns.

The pain still floats and lingers,

But my contract with death is torn.

Once I was done blaming strangers,

Color seeped back into my eyes.

I thought I was a lone ranger,

But fate gave me a free second try.

And once I was done complaining,

My bones found a place they fit.

No, I am not a saint in training,

But I count blessings more than I admit.

-Jackie

Talking To Myself

Photo by Marlon Schmeiski

The people who use you can never truly define who you are,

Neither can the substances that try to kill you as the day turns dark.

But I have seen the morning, and it tastes like mist on your lip.

Darling, even if you reject the salvation, it tingles your fingertips.

The people who keep your head under the water will leave,

And the memories of their frowns and critiques will haunt your sleep.

Still, a new sun will rise every time you open your tired eyes,

And there will come a day when you greet the moon with your lullabies.

The people who spill their guts on your shirt will betray you,

And those who hate everyone but themselves will never get bruised.

No matter how dim your path gets, you can ignite the light yourself.

Darling, even in starless nights there is someone here to help.

-Jackie

No Love Lost

Photo by Ayşe İpek

My mind was keeping itself a prisoner,

It got cursed by the local coroner.

My saliva mixed with the blood from the bruise.

I was isolated and wrongly accused.

No one tried to fix the burning pages,

But their words sent me to eldritch sages.

No action taken, no love lost.

Dearest, I only had myself to trust.

A decade slipped through my trembling palms,

And when I noticed, they told me to be calm.

Please stop saying that I lost my head,

Look at the sheets, see the pints I have bled.

My mind was keeping itself in chains,

Swallowing fumes just to kill the pain.

Even the worst labyrinth has a way out,

So, do not tell me now that you are proud.

-Jackie

Bloodbath

Photo by Ayşe İpek

The muddy battlefields I left behind scream my name almost every dawn,

And each time I choose to look away, they leave dead animals on my lawn.

The parts of myself I gave up for peace are now haunting my worst nightmares.

My fears form a statue in the back of my mind, saying that I should not fight fair.

But I still remember all the moves I made and all the scars I collected,

And my innocence sits on a shelf these days, it is petrified and neglected.

I did the best I could to survive the substances taking over my sanity.

The wind tells a different story though, it mixes self-preservation with vanity.

Still, the foggy battlefields crave my flesh with the power of a loose cannibal.

It will be months before I can stop running like a frightened animal.

If the time is kind, the wounds will heal and pieces will fall back into place,

But only when they burn my casket without me,

I will know that I have won the race.

-Jackie

Lost Cause

Photo by Alexander Krivitskiy

They say that they know how this tale will end,

And they try to finish up my chapter.

But my story is a rotting corpse,

Seeping through walls, leaking through wrappers.

They said that I was another goner,

Then they told me to keep my teeth in check.

Yet they never listened when I begged,

They just watched as I became a wreck.

They said that people like me are rolling stones,

Then they set the gravity into motion.

Still, I crawled up the hill despite the weight,

And that won their undying devotion.

They say that they know how this tell will end.

They did not notice me rewriting the ending.

My story twists like a cursed soul,

It is raw, yet still worth defending.

-Jackie

Our Humdrum Dance

Photo by cottonbro

We used to talk every single day,

And every night I reached for a glass of wine,

But it did not get rid of your cruelty,

It did not kill your twisting spine.

We used to talk every single day,

And every night I felt sick to my stomach

Because you never had anything nice to say.

I was not a friend, I was just a doormat.

We used to talk every single day.

Do you even remember my happiness?

You used to put lemon juice on my bruises,

Saying that it would hurt me less.

We used to talk every single day,

And now I barely remember your fury.

You tell people that I have debts to repay,

You always act as the judge and the jury.

We used to talk every single day,

And every night I needed a glass of wine

Just to bury the taste that you had left,

Just to keep you from taking all that was mine.

-Jackie

Pale Pain

Photo by cottonbro

My pale pain is blind, yet my fury is always pointed.

It is sharper than the mightiest sword,

Straight, yet clearly avoidant.

I have tried it all, but my self-deprecation owns me.

It slides its fingers through my hair,

Swears that this love is holy.

There is nothing left to burn here other than the truth.

It once promised to melt my chains,

Now it calls me a prude.

But I know that the pain will guide me to the very end.

I would rather bet on my innocence

Than play my fury’s pretend.

-Jackie

Cages

Photo by Lisa Fotios

My heart pumps scarlet blood the same way it used to,

And my head traps all the monsters who used to abuse you.

I tend to forget some names, but I never forget faces.

When I think of his, my heart breaks and then it races.

We are all put in cages, yet mine came with a key.

It is up to me to decide if it is a gift or pure misery.

I feel the blood rushing to the surface as I breathe in.

Some people like their rage, but I am done with the feeling.

Still, my chest never lets me down, it tells me I need it,

And my skull jails horrors, but I still go and feed it.

I forgive others, yet I never dare to forgive myself.

My demons will clap when I fall from the highest shelf.

-Jackie

Misunderstood

Photo by veveto

My tongue often gets bitten, but I promise to let it loose tonight,

And when they come for your secrets, I swear that I will not put up a fight.

I will be losing my flesh in the battle, but you will become a wreck.

Forgiveness is too much to ask for someone who came for my neck.

My lifeline almost slipped through my fingers while I was taming you,

And when I was taking my last breath, you told me you had no clue.

Still, I turned the other cheek, hoping to evolve into a faint nothing,

Wishing to become a zero, dreaming to escape your rage and bluffing.

Love, my skull almost turned inside out just to please your appetites,

And when that dam finally burst, it released all your parasites.

Yet, it will be me losing limbs while you run away from the truth.

I wonder if you ever get tired of acting like the world wronged you.

-Jackie

Your Ghost

Photo by Anastasiia Chaikovska

Honey, please do not worry, I really do not feel like death.

My frame is transparent, and my pulse is an empty threat.

Honey, what is the matter, oh, why are you screaming?

My eyes are two black holes endlessly sinking or dreaming.

Honey, I told you too many times to never let them win.

My breath is just a ghoulish wind bumping into cheap tin.

Honey, I beg you to listen, I do not feel like a ghost.

You have known ever since you found my corpse on the coast.

Honey, what is the reason behind you crying so loud?

I wish I could have cried like that, but I was never allowed.

Honey, I begged you too many times to get me help,

But you insisted that these blades will only make me yelp.

Honey, the wounds never healed, they leaked red on the carpet.

Deep inside I knew that you had made me into a paper target.

Honey, please check twice if you locked the door tonight.

My frame is transparent, and I am as ghostly as my might.

-Jackie