Category: Other

Honour My Wishes

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Unremarkable, irrelevant, overly talked about but never quite acknowledged.

They let the spiteful paragraphs fly, my nightmares turn into a broken promise.

The tears freeze in the cold December air, they form perfect salty spheres.

Grainy pictures slide by as my consciousness morphs into a guilty plea no one hears.

Honour my wishes, I beg you, honour them,

Don’t listen to the fat they’re chewing.

The lighting is unavoidable, it holds the clouds up

With the strong winds brewing.

Unavoidable, facetious, overrated but never judged fairly enough to fail.

They write down my every mistake, then distribute the list by mail.

The fireworks start, make me lose my sight and my sense of direction.

My ears ring as the thought bubble above my brain dissolves into friction.

Honour my wishes, I beg you, honour them,

Don’t ever let my feet touch the ground.

The destruction is immanent, wait it out

Until a new storm is crowned.

-JW

Gusto

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Can’t get out of my bed, can’t help humming the melody,

The one you sang while I was drifting off to sleep.

Yet I hold on to my sizzling ego, set fire to the lying tarot.

Each night I make the grave mistake of standing in your shadow.

Can’t turn away, can’t think of a place that I’d rather be.

I’m twisting and turning, counting all the lost sheep.

But it wasn’t a surprise when you forgot, it was long expected.

I was born to be mistaken for a woman who can be neglected.

Should’ve built dream chateaus,

But now I’m polishing your gusto.

Yet I hold on to my sizzling ego, set fire to the lying tarot.

Each night I make the grave mistake of standing in your shadow.

-JW

Self-Destruction

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I thought I could freeze the sadness out of me,

I thought I could caffeinate it out or paint it over with glee.

I wished once I stopped shaking, I’d be free

But no amount of distraction could part the stormy sea.

I left the window open until my skin felt static.

I wished you could guide my senses, fussy and erratic,

And I truly hoped the enormous heavy feeling inside would slip under,

Almost like dying peacefully, almost like beating a thunder.

Just like other memories they’d drift away into a dream,

Yet we’re too gentle to open the void, too gentle to ever grow mean.

So I drift off to sleep in the freezing room one more time.

The night pours saltwater in my aching bruises,

It burns like lime.

-JW

Part IV: After the heist

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We’re hiding in sketchy houses, digging through rusty mailboxes,

Burning bonfires indoors and only surviving through some proxies.

Her hair on my stomach, she’s counting what we’ve finally earned.

I’m watching with a knot in my stomach, I’m seeing she’s not concerned.

My fingertips pulsate on the skin of my lover, I’m burning alive.

An adrenaline rush captures me, take a knee or a shameful nosedive.

The roof of this shack we’re living in leans on my last sane bone,

The fridge is still empty, even after we’ve gotten enough for the crown.

But the green hair is gone, so are the goons,

Only a brown-haired girl in front of me,

A gun encrusted with runes.

And she wants the riches, not the love I offered.

I reach for the door leading to the river.

The bullet sprints as I topple.

-JW

Part III: A Memory

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Always a cliffhanger, another drop of anxious energy in an ocean.

Misdirected anger, passive aggressive comments mixed in the stress potion

And mismanaged days with rights turned sour and disgustingly wrong.

Did I hear you correctly, is my compliance coming off too strong?

Misdemeanours, ironic chuckles, severed ties with reality and truth.

I float in this dirty water because I choose to keep my eyes on you.

But you’ve been swallowed by the cloudy liquids and I’m curious –

Why do I choose to stay knee-deep in the mud, burnt-out and furious?

-JW

Part II: The night of the heist

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We’re hanging out of the eleventh storey window,

Spine tingling from adrenaline and impostor syndrome.

Our legs are heavy but our thighs aren’t shy.

We’re getting drunk on all the things that money can’t buy.

And the seventh heaven seems near when you’re here,

When you’re wrapping around me, I become a seer.

There’s glass on the floor but we’re careful while walking.

No deep feelings, no talk of romance, no naïve falling.

I disguise what’s left of my confidence as a joke

But you climb right over the fiction.

We’re so blissful yet broke.

“It’s the night of the heist, baby, don’t you worry one bit,

Tomorrow we’re gonna burn each stained seat where they sit.”

-JW

Part I: Death Herself

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I’d drown myself in the river to keep you safe from my tantrums.

I’d drag myself down stairwells straight to the bottom,

Through fiends and phantoms.

There are lengths I’d go for every single soul, and then there’s you,

Dressed in white, soaking wet, smiling at me from the doorstep.

Oh, I wish you knew.

You’re just as beautiful as death herself, just as unavoidable.

I can only breathe in whilst sinking in your dominant gaze.

I’d stop but I’m incapable.

The rays play with your cheeks and I’m high, more than smitten.

Your eyes glued to my chest like you can hear my heart pounding,

Like this was pre-written.

Long green hair and the warmest eyes to match this dying winter.

I drown myself in your presence, and once my lungs fill with rage

I crush my heart on splinters.

-JW

Part V: See you later, my love

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And the weight of your eyes crushing me will carry my body down the current.

The rage of our confrontation will bury my ghost deep in rivers stained like currants.

I’ll patiently wait on the other side if that’s what you ask for, if it cures you.

You might stick to your guns but sooner or later you’ll need someone who adores you.

And you might punch a hole in the wall or your own reflection in the rear-view mirror,

The one I gave you three weeks ago when you claimed you wanted to see the life clearer.

But now you don’t think of my little gifts as a promise anymore, it’s all gone.

The magic dust has settled on surfaces becoming pain you can’t shift or turn.

-JW

Unnoticed

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I see you cry out in the fairest of mornings

But I don’t hear, I don’t empathize.

I’ve had my fair share of mournings.

The tears don’t flow in a rhythm and I wonder –

Why were you mean to me

When you’re the one torn asunder.

I feel the blood on my hands dry seamlessly.

Even if I don’t remember what I’ve done,

I won’t bother with shame and secrecy.

I see another one cry out in a pale, dull morning.

But I still ignore, I can’t empathize

With your pain –

So deserved, so unavoidable, so burning.

-JW

Behind Church Walls

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Do you think I regret what I’ve grown into?

Do you think I’ve cried over the graves

That I’ve led to?

But do you think I forget where I come from?

Do you think I’ve kneeled in a mass

For thee I never outrun?

You’re disgusted but jealous at the same time,

You’d buy a life like mine

For a Judas dime.

And a cross or holy water won’t really do,

A burning sensation won’t either.

Oh, I pity you.

-JW