#7 The Neighbor

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Living next door to Joanne was more of a challenge than a well-deserved rest

From the plain, identical streets of this rural area where I’ve built my little nest.

It wasn’t much, a wife, two dogs, a C-class Mercedes and A-class depression

Which was a trustee friend ever since the start of this mind-boggling recession.

With a mortgage and jobs that set fire under our feet with each sudden firing

Our little family slipped into the hands of an unspoken sadness, slow and tiring.

But Joanne was different, 6 inch heels and a concentrated personality to match –

Her loud and never-ending parties didn’t let our sleep escape without a scratch.

We tried to befriend her, we tried to scold her, we tried to execute a revenge.

For the most part it was just us yelling over the music, leaning on the picket fence.

One November day I was home alone brooding and I saw Joanne leaving her house.

The lady left her key under the mat. She didn’t have kids, didn’t have a spouse.

I saw a chance and I took it, snuck over the lawn and unlocked the heavy door.

Whatever her family was doing, I was convinced – they weren’t struggling or poor.

The lavish carpets and drapes, artwork to match the design – it all told a story

Of a rich woman taking over a rural street and claiming it as her territory.

The kitchen was spotless, no dirty dishes from the outlandish parties she held.

There was also a garden with curious plants, the smell so strong I was repelled.

A sudden movement in the kitchen window threw me off guard, was it her?

As I hid behind the plants in the garden, a cat appeared, green eyes and white fur.

Should I feel relieved or should I wait it out? My gaze began to wander.

Joanne’s face was pressed against the window. I fled, there’s no time to ponder.

But there’s no way out, the gate’s locked, so was the little side wicket.

I slowly stepped back into the garden as she walked outside, calm yet wicked.

My body hit a bush right beside the fence and I noticed a tiny, handwritten note.

I realized why we never saw her guests leave. She grinned and reached for the remote.

With the first beats of the rhythm I was in so much pain I curled up like a fetus.

The last thing I saw was a bloody note saying:

“Run if you see this.”

-JW

#1 The Untrusty Friend

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Oh Lizzy, Lizzy, how I proved you dead wrong.

You told me I couldn’t, I wasn’t that strong.

Oh Lizzy, Lizzy, how the tables have turned.

The leaves cover the corner where I was scorned.

Oh dear, don’t you see how it’s played out?

Tell me once more how I smell of sour doubt

And yell once again for help or for mercy.

You’re so frigid they named you Lady Percy.

But let’s not get off the topic, hear me out –

We can’t move forward if you continue to shout.

Oh Lizzy, Lizzy, how you wronged me to death.

You told me I couldn’t while losing your breath.

-JW

A Family Tree

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Keep your foot on the cheating pedal, hit the gas.

Drive faster, let the chills and shock pass.

Give me your torn up hands and please pray

That they don’t find your blood on Joanne’s ashtray.

Miss all the green lights and left-turn signals.

To the right, over the bridge, keep it simple.

They can’t trace our steps unless you confess.

I’ll do the talking, you can deal with the rest.

And I still smell your mother’s perfume on me.

Your father’s favorite song is making the view gory.

The lives that we spilt chase us through the roads.

Drive faster, let the image ahead split into codes.

Ones and zeroes,

We’re never alone.

-JW

Creeper

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The light in your window is still on, it’s blinking and fidgeting.

A candle’s lit on your bedroom table next to the piano and your drink.

The branches hug your window so tightly, it’s almost hard to see.

The closer I go, the faster my heart beats; I almost struggle to breathe.

Your friends are gone for the weekend so I’m curious – are you lonely?

Do you have anyone back in the city, was my invitation too phony?

Yet you dance around the place like you own it, the candles cheer you on.

My nose is almost touching the glass, my chest now weighs a ton.

One more careless spin and you waltz straight into the backyard,

I boldly invite myself into the house while you’re getting charred,

Puffing your seventh cigarette of the day, you’ve really changed a lot.

But I’m still as trustee yet not as sweet,

Smart enough now to cut down the flowers who rot.

-JW

Capture

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I launch my teeth in your smooth right wrist,

Call it self-defense, but don’t call my thirst selfish.

Salty blood on my lips, they trickle down the neck.

You branded me evil for having some self-respect.

There’s nothing you hate more than disobedience.

You slap my face, I know you enjoy the experience.

The rope tightens around my waist and my ribs.

You slash my confidence like a fig.

I no longer hear the birds sing when I drift away.

The death licks its lips and picks up the tray.

-JW

A Young King

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Done hyperventilating over long-dead flowers,

Done praying for lost people in the darkest of hours.

My quill is sharp yet my words sound meek.

The daylight is a river, my reality is a creek.

One sneaker in mud, one step closer to my roots.

My blood is merciless, do not expect any fruits.

But I still sneak out in the cold, harmful dawn.

Done panicking over cruel butlers and pawns.

I do not feel like a young king climbing the fences,

I do not feel home while gathering expenses.

My words are cutting yet my reasons are too weak.

The daylight is a river, my reality is a creek.

-JW

Sleepless Desires

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Hot pink heels and a thermostat heart that guesses what she wants.

She’s into fuzzy things, casual disregard and nonchalance.

The car she drives is just as worn out as her second guesses.

You couldn’t tell her daughter is twenty by the way she dresses.

But she knows that nobody’s calling, she’s fully aware.

They grin at her sun-damaged skin and platinum blond hair.

The streets are calling her name and her sleepless desires.

Talk is cheap and her empathy isn’t for hire.

Yet she extends her palm towards the sun setting over city lights

As she takes a stranger’s hand disappearing into the neon night.

-JW

Status And Other Vices

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It always starts with one too many in candle-lit boudoirs.

His friends call him pleasant but they don’t know

What he does in the dark.

There’s always someone just right, someone too easy

So he judges everyone’s vices with vivid lust, thinking:

“I hope that she sees me.”

His shirt is fitted almost far too well, do you even care?

He looks down on those who don’t see his status,

He hates those who stare.

It usually ends with him smiling ever so faintly in the mirror.

The bathroom stinks, the sink is stained.

Nobody’s there when lights grow dimmer.

-JW

Reunited

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There are abandoned factory buildings as far as I can see,

There are leaves red as blood on a knife after a killing spree.

There are winds as cold as sin, but warmer than my hands

And there are shackles on my ankles, imported from France.

The city I’ve long forgotten stands before me so tall.

The city that branded me rotten, the place that shrunk me small.

Each wall explodes dust and it colours my skin oddly grey.

Each wall in this city views its visitors as an overdue prey.

I’m shoved into my room, put under a neon microscope lens.

The gates, doors and bridges are shut behind me

And I’m back in Ante.

No memories, no joy and no friends.

-JW

Deleted

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I never felt safe while falling for you,

The fumes kept poisoning my lungs.

But I’ve found safety in your love

While the rest of the world

Is speaking in tongues.

I never felt cherished being by your side.

The darkness you cast broke me down –

Yet I felt lonely without your devotion

So I dropped my sword

And picked up your crown.

I never counted to seven before jumping

But I stepped on the ledge, eyes shut.

We’ve found something bigger than a moment.

Let me kneel on the ledge,

Let me delete all the rut.

-JW