Category: Other

Flashes

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I cannot help but wonder – what if I let myself fall?

What if I lost my pride and answered the call?

Not like it matters at all

When I am ten feet tall.

I am just wondering – what could have happened

If I never stalled?

Now I can only imagine our lives overlapping

Until they become a single figure.

Will the timeline keep snapping?

Will it break us in half, will my part be bigger?

I cannot help myself, the thrown away shots keep flashing…

Is it you behind the trigger?

Or is it my imagination begging for the thunder to stop crashing?

-JW

Ode To Rain

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Just watch as they paint us

In charcoal and jet.

The rain will not save us

From yesterday’s regrets.

And they will not stay here

As the fields overfloat,

As we drown in the dark fear

With water in our throats.

But let them look away,

Let them say we deserve this.

Today is the day

When we break the surface.

Sometimes pressure is a gun,

Unloaded yet dismal.

Just watch them all run

Away from the drizzle.

-JW

Under The Surface

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Wait for me as the sea retreats,

Watch as it slips back into its seat

And waves when I disappear.

My home’s deep under the surface,

Where only the water circles.

It strangles my circuits.

Do not turn off the light beneath.

The abyss needs to feed,

It is looking up at your feet.

Never trust the darkness below

As it lurks, wanting you to slow.

And wait for me as the sea retreats,

Breathe out once more,

Then follow me into the heat.

-JW

Paradise Unnoticed

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Do you think the moon will shatter my porcelain skin once you leave?

I am still undecided, unsure about which truth I should believe.

We both stick to our own guns only trusting what we can perceive.

Maybe the time is finally right to take a moment and breathe.

But all I know for now is that you are walking down my street.

The front door keeps my secret covered as the moonlight bleeds.

Not sure if you will pass me by or come and take what you need.

Do you think the moon will shatter my porcelain skin once you leave?

I keep looking for answers like a dog chasing autumn leaves.

Some stare in disbelief but I know they have long called us thieves.

Maybe the time is finally right to sit down and grieve

The love we lost between darkening sky, between crooked front teeth.

I look back and wonder how the paradise went unnoticed under our feet.

We danced around in lavender silk, forgetting reason and sleep.

The rest moved on, but we were kicked out right into the deep.

Do you think the moon will shatter my porcelain skin once you leave?

-JW

Note #210

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Photo by Aldiyar Seitkassymov from Pexels

The pain only lasted for a moment or two.

I put myself together with stiches dipped in glue.

My palms grew selfish, my skin grew slicker,

I covered the scars in bright blue stickers.

And some wanted to soothe my brittle bones –

But I do not deal in misery, I suppose.

So, I burned all the gifts they graciously brought me,

Perished the lies they branded “true stories”.

The ache lived through me, it laid roots like a tree,

You wanted to drown my sorrows in the sea.

Yet, the beacon guided you away from the bay.

But do not worry,

The pain only lasted for a day.

-JW

The House Needs To Feed

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Three days in a row I’ve seen you hiding by the forest line.

The rain’s soaking your dirty hair but I let you take your time.

Your face is vaguely familiar yet the name escapes my mind,

And uneasy feeling sits in my stomach like rocks,

It twists and it grinds.

So I stay up all night watching your movements from the attic.

You can’t find a way in and I smile as your behaviour turns erratic.

But then you notice the basement window, it’s slightly open.

You dive right through with a grin on your lips,

Taking the trap for a token.

The red floor creeks gently under your worn out sneakers.

You must’ve woken her up, she’s quite a light sleeper.

So I wonder – what did you notice first, was it the smell?

Was it the glowing eye or another dead creeper?

It’s hard to guess from your yells…

Go ahead and keep that secret all to yourself.

Three days in a row I’ve heard you screaming for help.

The rain’s leaking into the basement, mixing with gore.

This house feeds on souls,

I hope you don’t mind that I volunteered yours.

-JW

The Powerless And Hopeless

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Today I used the money you gave me as a coaster,

Spilling black coffee over our history

As you pretend to toast her

While adding drugs to her champagne.

I can’t help but wonder –

Do you really not feel any of the pain?

We give you gilded towers

But only our wounds feel like true gains.

She cheers to you and loses the power,

Hands tied, no more going against the grain.

The chanting grows louder,

And by the witching hour

You drown her last hope down your hungry drain.

-JW

The False Savior

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Photo by Anna Shvets from Pexels

I sell and barter my last faith away

But I can’t be bothered

To save some for a rainy day.

In my view, it’s been pouring rain,

It’s been like this for ages, really.

So don’t turn my pages,

Don’t remove the flooring and pain.

And ask – who are you saving here?

My faith or your craving

To be close when I disappear?

But I’m steady where I stand.

Be ready to fight

If you ever dare to give me a command.

-JW

Note #816

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I’ve drafted way too many goodbye notes to let you finish a single one.

I’ve shot myself too many times to ever trust you with a barrel of the gun.

Call out my double standards and swear that you’ll never speak to me,

Comfort your vividly green envy but let my wide eyes be your prophecy –

Don’t you ever follow me, don’t you ever step a foot in my direction.

Trust the gut that’s pulling you away from the path of polished affection.

The little perfections will turn into an avalanche that buries the strongest.

One day the immaculate snow won’t melt away until the middle of August.

Take my advice as a warning but don’t carry it home like a gilded shield.

You can’t learn a lesson worth your while if your lips are spitefully ceiled.

But I’ve drafted too many farewell addresses to give you any ink for free.

Put my silly words in a backpack, waste them over another nosebleed

Until you find your true creed.

-JW

The Haunting

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Trams pass through me at midnight, they’re all empty and sound,

And I stand on the rails pushing away spiky, grey clouds.

The silence disarms me but the darkness melts like warm butter,

My feet weaken by the second as shame angrily splutters.

The asphalt is the path of the forgotten – yet, my legs get weaker.

It’s a shame, really, I’ve only been running for one weekend,

But my high-flying morals have turned into a deadly splinter

That will kill off all my innocence by the next winter.

The red in my cheeks is crawling up to the whites of my eyes.

Perhaps I rushed when accepting this Trojan horse of a prize –

Even the road less travelled can turn into the bleakest routine

If you’re already a ghostly mist masked as a fine-tuned machine.

But escaping the truth can only get one so far, and I knew it.

I raised the seven headed dragon, then waltzed right through it –

Until it burned me to a crisp while I pretended to be its king…

Now I walk the streets as a wisp of charcoal smoke

With two scarlet scars replacing my rosy wings.

-JW