Category: Other

Time Tries To Befriend Me

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Photo by Vladimir Konoplev

I stare at the calendar, knowing that the day is near.

The sadness on the inside will outweigh the fear,

And the coat of yellow paint I put on my exterior

Will succumb to a darkness far superior.

I tick with the clock, counting down only zeros.

The cracks in my skin do not make me a hero.

I worry that the sadness inside will bleed through

And paint your roaring suffering pale and untrue.

But time tries to befriend me, and I just let it.

We all pay off our dues in scars or in debit.

My worst mistakes precede me like an omen

Until all of my bad days get interwoven.

-Jackie

Between Sips

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Photo by Ahmose Athena

I think of you between the early morning coffee sips

As I watch the time slipping between us like dirty silk.

I ask for forgiveness, so your shoulders shoo the chips.

Maybe it is too late to mourn all the spilled milk.

The ghouls I left behind me in the streets of my town,

They still clown around and peek through dusty windows.

I hear them cursing the ground I walk while they drown,

Saying women like me only go where the wind blows.

Still, each sentence you say holds me down like an anchor.

Rose colored things wash me out, but you never do.

I wish on you like a star with my selfishness and anger,

And I hope that you see me among all of the blue.

My sanity escapes me when you pull away once more,

But each time I know you will come back tomorrow.

I have never chased the loneliness of being adored,

Yet, even your sharpest words drown out all my sorrow.

-Jackie

They Feed On My Stories

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Photo by Alexey Demidov

I see them holding my fingers,

But I cannot feel their warm touch on my skin.

The numbness flows through me like a river,

Pushing me down like a pin.

I know I must go on without feeling.

This is the path I must follow ‘til the end.

Severed heads float through the air screaming,

But there is no time to bend.

I rush towards the neon door,

Searching for a single sign that could stop me.

The eerie emptiness speeds up time,

And every new exit is just a copy.

I trip on the wires and cables,

Falling down the hole that they’ve dug so neatly,

And they rip my stories from my shaking hands.

I really hope death beats me.

-Jackie

Follow You

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Photo by Aleksandar Pasaric from Pexels

I follow you into the dark,

I walk with you through the mud.

The months leave their mark,

But I have you in my blood.

I crawl through grass with you,

I lay on my back in the streets.

You taste like a witch’s brew.

It is funny how feelings fleet.

-Jackie

Sleepless Nights

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Photo by elifskies from Pexels

Our windowpane drips slick iron paint,

And it covers the scenery until there is nothing left,

Only the dull reflection, only the pain,

And a few frail thieves accused of petty theft.

There are people outside, but they do not notice,

Even when I knock and beg in agony.

I hear them calling me a damn novice

For letting my windows get covered in debris.

They do not see how the iron is made,

How it leaks from the ceiling whenever I sleep.

But I guess that is just the secret of trade –

Let people drown, then throw them into the deep.

-Jackie

Victimless Crime

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Photo by Gelatin from Pexels

They ask for my secrets,

Even beg me to let them in.

They don’t know I’m not sleeping

Or fighting a war I can’t win.

They spill their drinks on me

Until I drown in the fumes.

I hear it’s a fallacy –

Destroy those how know the truth.

They try to take a bite,

Wrap their mouths around me.

They don’t know who I become at night,

Don’t know they cannot drown me.

Then they go quiet occasionally,

Especially when I walk by.

I watch as they wait patiently

To murder me with an alibi.

-Jackie

Not A Two-Faced Liar

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Photo by Filipe de Azevedo from Pexels

Some of the weight might just slide off my shoulders

At the mere mention of you losing sleep.

Some of my fears might come out in the open

If I see you weeping while counting sheep.

This is not about revenge or grand power imbalance,

And I am not a two-faced liar at all.

You did not touch me, did not mock my talents.

This is not an irony, so do not bawl.

I told you once and I told you all evening,

But you did not listen, did not care.

When my skin was bruised and my ego was bleeding,

You cemented my silence with some fear.

This is not about revenge or grand power imbalance,

And I am not a two-faced liar at all.

You did not touch me, did not mock my talents.

This is not an irony, so do not bawl.

Some of the pain I have been carrying with me

Might dry out if I hear your begging.

So, maybe I will reach the final epiphany

If I see you cancel you own faux wedding.

This is not about revenge or grand power imbalance,

And I am not a two-faced liar at all.

You did not touch me, did not mock my talents.

This is not an irony, so do not bawl.

-Jackie

The Creature

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Photo by Engin Binbas from Pexels

The creature hiding behind my abdomen hates you tonight.

It growls and it bites, it rips open my stomach,

It chooses to ignore the light.

But I cannot blame it, I am just as miserable standing right here.

Every pore in my skin is bleeding out,

But you say that it is I who should be feared.

Maybe that is the truth, and maybe we should leave it that way.

Afterall, I was never truly a victim.

Afterall, “the prey chooses to become prey”.

So, pardon me as the creature from my abdomen haunts you down.

Do not beg for mercy, no,

A clown chooses to become a clown.

The creature hiding under my skin consumes you tonight.

It growls and it bites, it feasts on your bones,

And that sound is my lullaby.

-Jackie

Remember

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Photo by Athena from Pexels

Remember when I told you about my new apartment, I told you first,

And you seemed so proud it almost felt like a curse.

It was in the cheapest part of the city, but you said it was cozy,

And the world was collapsing around us, but our glasses stayed rosy.

Remember that I always called you stunning on your bad hair days.

You made fun of my clothes, told me that fake beauty fades.

We tried to find out which one of us could drink more coffee.

When I let you win, you held up my frown like a damn trophy.

Remember how we used to fight like the outcome truly mattered.

You called me the naïve Alice, I told everyone you are the Hatter.

And you never tried to clean the blood from the kitchen floor,

It was always more important to keep a track of the score.

Remember that we never held onto the grudges or the purple scars,

We hid the scabs and broken egos under layers of tarp.

We knew that one day we would show each other all of the knives.

Do you remember?

We skipped town before the heartbreak took away our lives.

-Jackie

I Fear The Third

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Photo by Burak Kebapci from Pexels

Two days along the line, just two,

And I am already done with hoping that I can make it out alive.

They tell me to enjoy the quick climb,

Tell me to keep my mouth shut and keep my demeanor benign,

But it has been two days, just two,

And I cannot count how many pieces my heart has shattered into.

They applaud my bravery and guts,

Then name call me behind my back, listing all the lows I have been to.

It has been two days, I fear the third.

My ears are ringing, blood cells are having a sprint in my hot veins.

They push their heels into my neck,

Making me beg them to let me survive, making me cry in pain.

Two days along the line, no more.

I am lying on my back, praying that I have the strength to leave.

They tell me it is never getting better.

I scream back and they stare in disbelief as I finally learn to breathe.

-Jackie