Category: Other

Taking Cover

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Photo by Akira Kawamura on Pexels

He first saw you the night you turned nineteen,

Bleach blond fantasies, mind desperate, yet keen.

Outskirts of desert formed your idea of love –

Now you have a pocketful with nowhere to shove.

He seemed to forget all the lessons you taught

And maybe too often he called you a fraud.

The years will fly by, the betrayal – remain.

The time will teach you to breathe but not to refrain.

He now has a mansion and a Las Vegas wife,

The most cheerful things that money can buy.

You can’t help but take it in, moment or more,

Before spiraling, throwing out all you deplore.

…He knew you never stood a chance against a goner,

Too lonely to cry for help, too scared to dishonor.

But you didn’t go back to the deserts he mudded

So maybe, just maybe, you’ve always known that’s it better

To run for cover.

-JW

Barely

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Photo by Andrea Piacquadio from Pexels

The glitz and the glamour are ruining our youth –

Too much lipstick, too short of a skirt,

The heels are too high, the words are too brute.

You can’t be book smart if you’re also a flirt.

The anarchism is teasing their brain.

No politics for teens! Stay in your lane.

Shut it, what do you know about pain?

Let’s all follow The Dream and stay insane.

The information is spreading too fast –

When I was twenty, I had a blast.

Now they’re opposing. Who even asked?!

When opinions are given, theirs should go last.

(The reality is changing them too early.

Time is running out, most of them aren’t treated fairly.

But you would rather look away than answer sincerely?

When you claim the youth is pampered, I would say – barely.)

-JW

Goodbyes

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Three nights ago your tender skin kissed mine in a violent dance.

Three nights ago I asked you to be mine; I knew it wouldn’t last.

Three nights ago our thoughts were oblivious – so was the romance.

Three nights have gone by but I’m still waiting for the horror show to pass.

I waited on that street corner, wrapped in words of people passing by.

The sun went higher as my hopes got lower. I don’t know what happened next.

Was it the cellphone ringing or was it my gut-wrenching cry?

I don’t recall the order… Just the endless pity calls and the stupid texts.

Three nights from now I will be burying your things in the backyard.

Three nights from now you will be turned into ashes ten miles from where we met.

Three nights from now our song will play on the radio, the one that tore us apart.

Three nights will go by but I won’t be able to forget your eyes

And my regret.

-JW