Category: Other

Muted

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And hell turned on its back and froze over to warn me about these betrayals.

The people you choose to trust might not always be those with good final portrayals.

Demons whispered in my ear but what scared me was – they spoke god’s truth.

I turned all seven locks tightly while weeping, then for a month I went mute.

They knocked on the doors to relieve the pressure, they said they’ll forgive.

How is one owed an apology if they cut me for pleasure, not to outlive?

Making sense of the poorly made spider webs made me never step out of my bed.

The quieter I lied there, the more I noticed that my friendships were poorly fed.

And the walls kept the sense of normalcy while everyone spiraled outside of the truth.

I turned all seven locks tightly while weeping,

I begged my senses to stay numb and mute.

-JW

Mace

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A foot in the door, I can’t keep the clashing spirits out.

The triad snarling at me, spitting droplets of bloody doubt.

Silver mannequins surrounding the building in heated crowds.

The glass moves in ultra-waves from the sound of their mouths.

Why don’t they listen, I’m not trying to leave this place!

I can’t control my fear hence I spiral like a mace.

But there’s always a thousand fists beating me back to the start –

Wherever I hide, they’re aiming and shooting a dart.

The doorknob is sinking my chest down to the holy ground.

Two feet in the door. There goes my shot at being unowned.

-JW

Tampered Heart

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Two-faced wolves in my best friend’s clothing.

I look through my pockets so I could stop choking.

Would a tithing help me make it through this round?

These predators are quiet and their silence makes a sound.

The morning is approaching with its hefty promise –

I run to the west, I rush towards the congress.

Here the sun raises later and betrayal never stings.

The wolves choke on rivals while others plead to kings.

Wire-Eyes zooming in as I fall down on my knees.

He’s been waiting for a chance to politely cease

The suffering this city pours onto tampered hearts,

And I’m his favorite because I never play it smart.

Disheartened I crawl in a corner, sit on the icy floor.

My best friends come rushing through the locked door.

Just two-faced wolves in my best friend’s clothing.

I look through my pockets so I could stop choking.

-JW

Isolated Frequency

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Sometimes I forget I’m not alone in this fight

And those voices can still tell wrong from right.

I cry myself to sleep when I remember how far

I could run without stones tearing my shoes apart.

But it’s midnight and everyone’s sound asleep.

I guess those demons are mine to keep

And wrangle by suiting their every need.

If I do, my safety’s not guaranteed.

But I look through the window.

I push away greed.

-JW

John Doe

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I don’t usually fall for things but I fell for your plastic carcass and rubber skin.

Pulled me in with your featherweight but I can tell your patience is wearing thin.

Your hair makes a sound only the driest of savannas can reproduce in the heat.

I hear there were many before me yet I’m chasing my luck by sliding underneath.

And underwater riddles are my favorite because the pressure is higher than the tempo.

No wasted words, the air is running out but you’re yet to learn that you’re the John Doe.

Not a single dove in this fairytale to deliver the message of you losing this round.

They’ll say the battle is up for the grabs while your glass eyes will let me get crowned.

-JW

Escape Diaries

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How do they control me when I put pillows on my ears?

How do they contort me if rut’s as mellow as my tears?

They’ve been conning everyone. They cut those who share.

They’ve put lighting in the bottle and smut on the ones who care.

How are my hands empty if I grab straws while crashing down?

How were thy lands plenty when some steer laws like lashing clowns?

We’ve been shy but twenty is enough to make it out.

We’ve swum by their heavies, one more day to plan the route.

One day more and no more drought.

-JW

The Pain Man Sings

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The smoke coming out the arena in old town square is never harmless.

Chanting voices in the airwaves sound so sharp, they’re charmless.

I step forward, one with the crowds, dancing to the sound of sirens.

All we’ve ever known here is abuse so we enjoy the violence.

Amplifiers know we hear them, we just don’t listen with our souls.

Their five year plan was to ruin us, and they’ve been scoring every goal.

Cellular devices all over the city lose power when the Pain Man sings.

If you don’t denounce “truth to power”, he will kiss you with blue rings.

As we approach the thick smoke, people are torn out of the groups.

I look around only to see they’re dragged by our own, not the troops.

The arena is filled with bright objects they took when we were harmless.

When we’re pushed back in our rooms I notice – the sky has gone starless.

-JW

The Reddest

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This is not a sunny city, all the light is sold on dark corners.

Too far for me to reach, too dangerous for my own mourners.

I’ve been too unwell to ask someone to buy that spark for me.

It’s not unfair to say that everybody here is unstable or sorry.

Stuck in my four walls, tearing apart every shelf to find it –

What if I stacked up on bulbs when I still had some fine wit?

The Wire-eyes on the radio keeps screaming out my oldest fears.

I pinch my forearm purple to dull the need to volunteer.

In the mirror room I notice how my scleras are now the reddest.

The radio station switches its ring to a plethora of menace.

They sentence me to another year of unrest.

“You can’t wrest guns away from someone under

Their own mind’s duress.”

-JW

Rebel City

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Most days I don’t have anything to contribute to the conversation.

Sitting and listening to the dialogues or tributes, waiting for my station.

Just as yesterday, this day reaches its finale but I struggle to sleep.

The conversations repeat while engraving the words way too deep.

I’ve spoken up a few times but it hasn’t been what I was promised.

The mic was carried away by somebody they call Thomas.

My nerve ends disconnect from shame I felt in that very moment.

These streets worked hard to teach me that doubt is a bad omen.

The city is well-planned and thought out with its harsh borders,

A labyrinth you’re not escaping without queen’s direct orders.

But the queen is dead, you’ve forgotten, just as you did last night.

The cavalry’s lead by rebels, but not what you’re thinking, not your kind.

Every thought you have bows to them until it falls straight to damnation

So I keep listening to the dialogues or tributes,

waiting for the final destination.

-JW

Rapid Eye Movement

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I’ve lived past two cities with contained light sources.

They’re tightening around my neck with some nooses.

My burgundy dresses aligned with their tales

But in order to breathe, I went off the rails.

I’ve lived by five rivers, all seemingly dirty.

The locals swore I wouldn’t leave until thirty.

Now five years have passed and I’m haunted by them –

Isn’t leaving the original REM?

And what if I carry this spirit of judgement?

Somedays my heart runs yet some – it just doesn’t.

I’ve lived past two cities with contained light sources.

Perhaps to escape that I’ll need more wild horses.

-JW