Category: Jackie’s diaries

Dusty Story

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Photo by Elisia Badaró

I read this dusty story where the heroine lived

And the kingdom came apart in a single strike.

She stretched the spaces between her own ribs

So that she could outbreathe everyone she liked.

They called her a traitor but never a menace,

And they summoned ghouls just to kill her rage.

Their petty thoughts made them look too jealous.

She had no choice but to turn to the next page.

As they were reaching for their sharpest knives,

The walls collapsed around their blue bodies.

I read a dusty story where the heroine survived,

But the trail she left behind always stayed bloody.

-Jackie

Maybe

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Photo by Jorge Fakhouri Filho

Maybe it isn’t all bad.

Maybe this isn’t mayhem.

You made me lose your affection,

But I’m still falling in love this December.

I’m meeting a lonely stranger

And calling their plot holes mine.

Maybe it isn’t all bad,

Maybe I should’ve sold you for a dime.

-Jackie

My Last Vice

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Photo by Danielle Reese

The bile churns in my stomach

As I watch the sea rise.

One more foot and I’m a goner.

The devil gets his final prize.

My neck is covered in cuts

And my fingers bleed seaweed.

I question my humanity

While waves drown all my misdeeds.

Is there fairness in surrender?

I can’t help but wonder.

My legs dance with sparks

As I laugh through the thunder.

The grief swallows my head,

Then spits it out in seven slices.

One more day of pure terror

And I will loose my last vice.

-Jackie

Resurrection

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Photo by Thaís Silva

Bite my head off and barter it for some peace of mind,

Tell yourself it’s never too late to kill off my kind.

Your legs crawl up my spine with divine affection.

I can’t look back,

Can’t take another resurrection.

Spit out my past kindness like it’s poisonous licorice,

Stare right at your mistakes and talk pure gibberish.

You crave the warmth I poured right onto your bones,

But I can’t do that now.

You have to die on your own.

-Jackie

The Little Light Inside

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Photo by wendel moretti

My thoughts, the very same you used to love,

Now twirl like the first November snow,

Erasing the existence of the path you paved,

Allowing the little light inside to glow.

My shadow, the very same you left for the dead,

It knocks on the glass until I lose my grip.

One day the rays will rid me of the memories

And bring ease into my fingertips.

My neck, the very same you wanted to snap,

Now bends under a gentler touch.

You branded me too demanding to love.

Turns out I did not even ask for much.

-Jackie

The Feast

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Photo by Luana Bento

The grey tones in the clouds and on the cobblestone streets

Protect me from the ghouls perched somewhere underneath –

Under my skin, under my coat, under each one of my lashes.

The ghouls try to seduce me, but it’s hard to reignite my ashes.

The grey city cries an old name that seems to ring a bell.

I see pale creatures climbing out of the nine circles of hell.

Some greet me like a friend, some snarl and gnash their teeth.

I point a bloody finger and send my demons out to feed.

-Jackie

Losing A Bet

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Photo by Nuzhet Flores

Nobody wants to see me tearing up

Or losing my temper in a taxi,

But you made me furious enough to do so.

I was suffocating,

But you didn’t even ask,

And I guess that’s what you think I deserved.

You were the best thing I could get,

At least that’s what you made me think

When loving you felt like I’ve lost some bet.

Nobody wants to hear me admitting it

Or losing my youth to you

But you made me smitten enough to do so.

I was breaking in two,

You said it was expected.

You couldn’t possibly believe I was such a fool.

So I burned my promise,

Then broke your ground

Until every tear you cried filled my chalice.

-Jackie

Peace

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Photo by Nestor Varela

I don’t have any conflict to resolve with these words

And I don’t have a plan for forging myself a new sword.

I’ve been longing and waiting for a moment like this.

Peace within my own skin is what I’ve dearly missed.

My petty self holds no weapons up her grandiose sleeves.

If you look close enough, you won’t notice fresh schemes.

It’s been a minute or two since I’ve exhaled just air

Instead of spewing dark flames with a splash of despair.

The anger tried to wrap its hands around my fragile neck,

Taking me through some alleys that I deeply regret.

Now I don’t have any conflict to resolve in these lines,

And the scars will get paler, but only with time.

-Jackie

That Fever Dream

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Photo by Mariana Ayumi

I was just sixteen when that fever dream started,

And I had to leave thinking that I got outsmarted.

Each time I tried to give the dream another shot,

I left wishing I could tie my whole heart in a knot.

A decade flew by, but time froze in some places.

I chased someone who could slow down my pace.

Every single soul I found made me question myself

Until I stopped renting out my mental health.

On the surface nobody even noticed the change,

Only a few saw the grey teardrops on the last page.

Perhaps it is not bad to stop seeking complexity,

All it ever did for me was kill what was meant to be.

And maybe this next story will be a better tale,

Maybe my own heart will not get broken over mail.

At least it does not feel like a fever dream today,

One small step for my younger self,

Still high on dismay.

-Jackie

Breezes

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Photo by _ Harvey

The salty breeze washes away the bitter feeling on my tongue,

And I try to trap the freedom the wind breathes in a jar.

My pain bleeds into the sand, but I can only stand and watch 

As my youth cries sour tears while watching from a far.

The grey fog covers my shoulders in questions still unasked.

One day the clear sky will slice me into bits and pieces.

The sea chews at my feet, trying to swallow me whole,

But the shallows keep me safe between sentiment and breezes.

-Jackie