Category: Candy’s diaries

Drunk on My Silence

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Argelis Rebolledo from Pexels

I used to get drunk on feeling blue about your love,

I used to get hyped when the push came to shove.

My palms sweating at your arrogance, heating up,

But I kind of enjoyed being there, being stuck.

The empathy I carried was too heavy for your shoulders.

The hate you poured weighed me down like a boulder.

I said: “You don’t have to agree but please listen.”

You snapped. “I hope your kind dies out of this system.”

The anger blinded my focus so I span out of control.

Tired of the middle ground, done with trying to cajole.

I used to get drunk on my silence to keep it nonviolent,

But I’m done thinking you can cut me open,

I’m done staying silent.

My voice has never been riant –

My blood is too defiant.

Try me. Try and challenge this bitter story

But you won’t make it taste more compliant.

-JW

Upside Down Morse

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Paul Basel from Pexels

Protected cruelty knows no limits so let’s make it learn.

No mercy for those who leave helpless bodies to burn.

The mission has failed us and a prayer or chant won’t do –

For every stab you encounter, I will gladly take two.

No space for safety in this place with no sacred codes.

I don’t understand, it must be an upside down Morse.

The message is unforgivably brutal to those who hear –

Out of all the weapons you’ve got, I wouldn’t use fear.

-JW

Bloody Coins

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Nicolas Donati from Pexels

Remember the money on the table, the bloody coins?

I didn’t touch it. Didn’t read the red talking points.

You stared in disbelief, as if I’ve cut you open for good.

You bit down on my fingers for pleasure

Just because you could.

Remember the jam-packed streets and our rendezvous?

It wasn’t a fortuity that I left the room raging blue.

The damage was limited but scarring was there to stay.

“No excuses for you to be insufferable again.

If you weep, I don’t pay.”

And once again – I stay.

-JW

Last Hope

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment

(dedicated to my past anxiety)

Photo by Mohamed Khaled from Pexels

You’re my favorite city light, my favorite paper cut.

For my every “if”, you have a concerned “but…”

And I don’t adore you that much when you cut my wings –

Yet you make my loneliness feel like gatherings.

(Maybe we weren’t the kings?)

Where did the time go while I stood perfectly still?

How come all the pages were burned in the paper mill?

You might not realize but it hurts – writing this verse,

Shouting at my future sliding before me in reverse.

(I must revenge the curse.)

Don’t mind me being foolish over another day.

My nerves are made of glass, my heart – of clay.

Correct me if I’m slurring through all the skull fractures,

I’m just learning this feeling was manufactured.

(Kill if ever captured.)

You’re my city of sin, my ghost town of innocence.

Every hope you mask with a crooked camera lens,

Shoot me twice in the chest, then wave the white flag.

The past seems fake, echoes are starting to lag.

(Fire, take out that drag.)

-JW

The Show Mustn’t Go On

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Mark Dalton from Pexels

I lit thirteen black candles to get you out of my four chambers

And I prayed to the gods and devils, even some saviors.

Every last belonging of yours I tossed out of the blurry window,

Every corner of my cell I cleaned, still –

You called me a bimbo.

Or was it my shattered ego throwing a tantrum once again?

I can’t compete with this, your venom is my ritualistic sin.

Four days I’ve been counting the seconds to our next row.

Baby, I’ll hit where it hurts but you’ll always go low.

Shows like this mustn’t go on, despite the audience chanting.

Whenever we crash again, they’ll call it a fabulous landing.

I’m over being type-cast as your next big step to freedom.

If you grow your demons for too long,

Someone needs to feed them.

It won’t be me, unfortunately, I’d rather run with my heathens.

The neon city might crash my bones but I’m not looking for Eden.

The next time you come down from the clouds pale, empty handed

Please keep in mind – it is still me you carved and forever branded.

You were never stranded.

-JW

Décolletage Cuts

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Olya Kobruseva from Pexels

My promises are as cheap as my perfume

But, love, I paid for it with my pride

So don’t stick it up my nose, let doom be doom.

…I’ll meet you on the other side

Without your backstabbing smile.

My hopes are as low as my décolletage cuts

And don’t try to convince me that it’s too much

Because two-faced boys dance where everything rots.

I’d suggest we never keep in touch.

I wasn’t the joke but you treated me as such.

My past is as vivid as my lipstick stains

So don’t play with the devil to ease your pain,

Don’t suck me dry just to fill up your veins.

Take your ego down the shallowest of drains –

Or keep your distance, stay in your lane.

-JW

Dusty Gravestones

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Lucas Pezeta from Pexels

I’m also refusing your lesson and vivid banner calling me to safety.

No harm done, take it easy, but how do you cope with days so hazy?

Don’t be fooled, no one should come down the path I’m pawing

But of all the souls out there, mine is the least deserving of saving.

When your reputation has nowhere higher to go, please take a seat.

You can’t carry the pain of someone crushed by the fangs of defeat,

You can’t ask a kid to outrun the future that’s barely promised

And I’m not being pessimistic, I’m just asking for you to be honest.

When there’s nothing to teach, how can you reach for the ceiling?

When the world is crumbling in full force, how is it healing –

To mention that there are better days ahead,

And our way is for the dead…

Is it really true that graveyards call us only when the neon needs to be fed?

I don’t think so, however, there is a revolution of hope to be lead.

Let’s promise ourselves another day at a time, despite all that’s been said.

For the pursuit of true empathy, I will be willing to lay my head.

-JW

My Best Bet

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Dark Indigo from Pexels

The arcades across the street are tempting my senses.

You are holding my hand, asking not to leave,

Counting expenses.

Casinos all across the strip losing power at your sight.

There and then I drop the cigarette and know –

This is a holy rite.

Balancing the sadness and joy between coins dropping.

Burned out fiction worlds crumbling around me,

Expectations flopping.

My best bet is still you but the dices keep rolling.

Flush is not good enough and I know I’m done,

Even without polling.

Sometimes an overheard victory is a lose-lose game.

I kick open the door and sigh.

Took all the riches home tonight but – why?

All that remains is the absence of you and shame.

-JW

Ignoring The Doom

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Rana Obaid from Pexels

Stuck in a bit of a hollow place lately,

Stuck in a loop, deluding everyone sedately.

Trying to fit accordingly on every surface.

The bending and breaking is making me nervous.

Trust me, I’m trying, I’m reaching for the sun.

Trust me when I say – my hand is a loaded gun.

Let me climb the barriers on my own,

Let me use resilience that I have loaned…

Don’t wait up when the floor creaks in my room.

Don’t worry about it, ignore the impending doom.

I promise to keep on stretching for the light,

I promise to crawl, even if I get scared of the height.

Keep my silence as a memory of the days I screamed

I guess my need to become timeless wasn’t what it seemed.

-JW

Chanting At Picket Fences

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Luis Dalvan from Pexels

Today feels different from the rest, you and I both sense the pressure.

These thoughts have never strangled me, I barely grasp the rugged texture.

The newscasters are casting spells, the words – not making any sense.

We hold the ground through unfair rains, we hide it from the violence.

We heed the facts so frantically, we hail them for our innocence.

No empathy fired from the other side though,

Silence building like a picket fence.

I see you through the white and gold, the metal gates keep clanking back.

The less you hear the rawest truths, the more you highlight what we lack.

What is the answer to your prayers? What is your plan for standing down?!

Let’s hope our chants aren’t distracting, please don’t be bothered while some drown.

…But there’s no shame in being proud for doubting wrongly taken crowns.

Don’t smile when burning the dictionary pages

To turn the word “voice” strictly into a noun.

-JW