Category: Other

It Burns

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It burns within me like hot coals before the first autumn rain.

They evacuate the fields and release all the foals,

They block half of the lanes.

The heat chars my insides with the fury of molten titanium,

And everything I’ve ever known splits, it divides,

Fracturing this entire millennium.

The time bursts wide open, overcooking my ribcage to a crisp.

They call the screams a bad omen

And hide themselves in the October mist.

But the boiling point keeps nearing as my lids leak dusty lava.

It’s what they’ve been fearing –

My glowing eyes starting another melodrama.

A single ruby red beam escapes my chest, I ignite the grey sky.

And as the fog settles onto them like a net,

They find their own anger tongue tied.

-JW

Two Swords

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Photo by Erkam Hayta from Pexels

You don’t have any power over me.

The illusion I painted before your very own eyes –

Was it a faux promise, was it a fantasy?

But you gave in to the lies masked as courtesy.

And you kept viciously firing away with the words,

Grinning through jealousy as I slumped over.

But, honey, my tongue has two swords,

One for re-opening my own wounds,

One for stabbing people like you in the back

Until all strings are cut and they’re out of tune.

But don’t paint it all black,

I tried before I gave the last loyalty away.

Now all that’s left for you is to run

Before my vengeful self takes you for a prey.

-JW

Anxious

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Photo by Ryanniel Masucol from Pexels

You’re sitting on my collarbone,

Dangling your legs over the edge.

Your two little swords pushed into my skin

So you don’t fall off the ledge.

My heart keeps racing for miles

When you electrocute my chest.

My ankles shake and palms tremble.

No rest for the anxious, no rest.

And the brain gets lost in the fog

As you blow sapphire smoke in my skull.

You haven’t left my side for years,

You’ve painted me fragile and dull.

Tell me, when was the last time I slept

Without your tight supervision?

I wonder if you ever get tired

Of turning my body into a prison.

-JW

Humor Me

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What’s left out there to inspire me anymore?

My mind’s dry sense of humor

Feels like a foot in the coffin door.

So I’m just wondering – what are we aiming for

By blundering in thunder

With heels achy and soar.

It almost seems like I’ve lost all the passion,

Left it out for the fiends

To steal, abuse and just cash in.

My thoughts are sometimes the worst distraction,

They’re coded in Morse,

Only encrypted in small fractions.

The brain struggles to put a single sentence together

Until I’m all out of moral debts,

No ties left to severe.

So what’s really inspiring me in this icy weather?

The creativity’s refusing to humor me,

Each new day lasts forever.

-JW

The Searchlights

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Photo by Ryutaro Tsukata from Pexels

The voices get angrier when the big searchlight in the sky goes out.

They try to take me through the paths that gaslight and sow doubt.

I chase the intrusive thoughts away by turning into a bright red blot,

And it is not necessarily a goal of mine but I am shooting my shot.

I crawl on my knees through the darkened streets without any shame.

The sounds echo in my brain without finding a corner to tame.

But the stars above me look like silver clots in a dark despair sea,

The humming of its silky splashes tail my mind in a minor key –

Until there is nothing else, just another rigid body in the water.

Someone will pull me out with a fishing line, call me their daughter.

The cycle repeats, the runaway in me starts loving the searchlights.

Too often the happiest endings never happen

Because of the darkest nights.

-JW

The Lock

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Photo by Yazan Khalifeh from Pexels

These walls echo my downfalls but stay deadly silent about the glistening highs.

One could argue I built them for myself, god, don’t re-examine my alibis.

Each morning the dread keeps forgetting itself – and maybe there’s even a chance

For me to escape what I’ve created, lose the lead sprinklers I got for hands.

But I can’t get past the chain link fences, like a spell they push me back inside.

The hellhounds I welcomed in this home know all the escape plans I lazily hide.

The floor spins on its axis, it melts away until there’s nothing for me to land on.

There’s wind on my skin but I can’t see the door, it’s covered by a phantom.

I keep hearing them say – you have to break these abysmal loops on your own,

And, god, I know I’ve built them myself, but would it kill you to pick up the phone?

Even if it’s a beast of my own creation, do I have to break out of its head alone?

Because I swear there’s one unknown lock on my gate,

Cast in envy green stone.

-JW

The Steely Sky

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There’s this moment each evening when the town goes monochrome –

Nothing but an alien shade spilled over the surfaces, nothing but chrome.

The clouds are grey, the streets are grey and the buildings are grey.

The sun says its goodbyes to another vibrant whirlwind of a day.

And whenever the grey wraps the town in the silky blanket of the night,

I see your house lighting up like a tower of the most gleeful light.

Right over the hill you turn on every single bulb in your possession

To fight the numbness away, and maybe even to teach it a lesson.

I’m not that sure it’s truly you, standing there with your flesh and bones,

But I haven’t seen your face in a year so I hope you’re also this alone.

Once the first drops of ink get added to the steely sky, I close my blinds.

There’s this moment each evening when I wish

That ten wrongs could make a single right.

-JW

Burning From Both Ends

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Time only stops for those who outrun it, no wonder this city doesn’t age.

These days are all the yesterdays, and tomorrow’s locked in a silver cage.

We rush down the boulevards, around the parks and through tall buildings,

The concrete in our lungs feels sweeter than betrayals or deserved killings.

But the air keeps changing its flow through the spaces we once worshiped.

All the unsteady boats in our neon ports look more like grey warships.

And the catacombs of our minds leak like candles burning from both ends.

The towers bend and the walls are closing in on those who swore to defend.

“If you have the courage, then I also have the courage to run even faster,”

We try to calm ourselves with these phrases to please the blue masters.

Yet – time only chases those who outrun it, no wonder we carry this rage.

All our yesterdays melt into blurry mist and the time is knocking again,

Asking to turn the next page.

-JW

Moving On

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Wasn’t I moving on before I saw you in the midnight train?

Wasn’t I looking out for myself?

Why am I here, mixing tears with the rain?

In times like these I question whether this cycle will end

With me still being able to fix it

And call my broken body a friend.

Or perhaps I’ll strangle myself with sentences never spoken

Until I’m broken and you’re broken,

We’ll wear it as a token.

But together we’re much number than when we’re alone

So I let the train pass to save my bones.

I don’t pick up the phone.

-JW

The Hippodrome

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In between the most private of moments the camera flashes bring me home.

The curtains I’ve wrapped around myself don’t hide me from the Hippodrome.

But these horses keep dragging the time faster and faster down the streets,

And I’m spinning in frantic circles to find the escape or just an empty seat.

Lights blur my vision as they’re leaking neon on my darkest dancing shoes.

I can’t run away now, the footsteps I leave are sparkling in pinks and blues.

If I survive one more night, then maybe their greed will lose its sizzling heat,

Or maybe it’ll scorch my scars until I bleed dry without missing a beat.

The choice lies down on my neck as all the flashes melt into a single one,

A pulsating array of stars emerge from the horizon, the prize yet to be won.

Between the most public of shunnings, the raindrops bring me back to life.

I let the curtains drop and blind the crowds that once kicked me down

And still took a bite.

-JW