Category: Jackie’s diaries

There is nothing I can put on this page

That would look better than a stain.

There is just me and my smoking rage,

Me and my miserable pain.

I know that nobody wants to listen,

But I keep talking, nevertheless.

In the dark my glitter tears glisten,

And no one says I am depressed.

There is nothing I can write down

That would heal me from the disease.

I have tried to drown this town,

But I was stopped by the police.

I know that somebody hears me,

That is not quite enough to survive.

All I need is for one person to fear me,

To dread me being alive.

Still, there is nothing I can say

That would make me more meaningful.

My words are a wicked play,

They feel just like a bleeding skull.

I know that this too shall pass

Like all the hurricanes I have killed.

One more raindrop in the glass,

And the waters will become still.

-Jackie

The tongues continue to clack as you leave another foggy room.

You gave me two bruised knees, you gave me the pale birch broom.

Now you run around the city wondering who spilled your secrets,

And the name on their lips is mine, so you stay stressed and sleepless.

Their teeth glow in neon blues whenever you dare to feel happy.

I hear the streets have finally learned what it takes to trap me.

They are coming for your blood again, and this time they will succeed.

The tongues will grow dead silent as your back will begin to bleed.

-Jackie

My mind hides itself between empty pages,

It traps itself in thoughts about ancient sages.

It attempts to escape what I know and remember

And forget the hope I lost this past December.

But the memories shuffle and snarl at me,

I hear them giggling about my failed dignity.

Maybe I am projecting, maybe they are right –

All would have been different if I finished the fight.

Yet, I felt the calling of an early grave,

It roared from the end of the road I had paved.

All I have is one spark to find a new route

And save my flawed mind from a deadly drought.

-Jackie

Love, I hope you know I won’t die for you,

No, I can’t die for you right now, can’t do it tomorrow.

My mind runs like an animal in the zoo,

Trapped yet still hopeful to escape all this sorrow.

Love, I hope you can forgive me for being late.

Perhaps I won’t show up, perhaps I’ll die on my way.

Pain is gnawing at my stomach with raging hate,

Playing with my arteries, treating me like prey.

Love, I hope you see what I’m going through.

The next morning isn’t promised, and I’m done trying.

Yes, I’ve loved you for years, and I’ll love you anew,

But for now, I must step away because my heart is dying.

-Jackie

All the scars I left on your villainous skin ache when you think of me,

And your bones, they always hurt like a broken apology,

Just like the one you never gave me,

Just like the one I never returned

Right after I said I’m done surviving your fatal burns.

Yes, you treated yourself like a victim when I was fighting for my life.

No, it was never my threats, nor it was ever my sharpened knives.

The lights were on, everyone saw it,

But it wasn’t the first grave you’ve dug,

And just that easily yet another victim was swept under the rug.

But I managed to slip through your greasy fingers like running water,

I ran to a far land where no one called me a sister or a daughter.

You tried to track down my mind,

You searched all the deserts and all the mines,

Then angrily smashed every part of legacy that I could call mine.

Still, all the bruises you marked me with pulsate when you near me,

And your harsh words rule my head like it’s a tyranny.

But one day you’ll be done,

One day it’ll crash over you like a wave,

And you’ll be out of unruly women to blame, accuse or defame.

-Jackie

What do you tell them about that chilly evening?

Do you call it cursed like I do?

Do you dare to call it enchanting?

You grabbed my body like I was a fleeting feeling,

Then destroyed the ground where I was standing.

All that for laughs and dimes,

All that for nothing.

Just so you could feel my skin on yours for a couple more times.

I truly hope that memory was your cherry on a whipped cream topping,

And I hope I was the reward you wanted the most in this race.

Yet, you know what they say about mad women,

Especially if their enemies have a name and a face,

And the story of their fury has a clear beginning.

You do not believe it though,

You tell them I got lost in translation.

I will not correct you, I am running this show,

Teaching the viewers about the consequences of an innocent causation.

So, do not mind the heart palpitations that will follow,

Do not look away as the story unravels.

My heart is charred, and it is hollow,

Do not beg for mercy or seek out a fair gavel.

Instead, answer the question.

What do you tell them about that chilly evening?

Did you develop an obsession?

Do you just not care about me bleeding?

I am coming for everything you ruined for me,

And for every lie you tell,

I will multiply that one pound of flesh by three.

Was it all for nothing then or was it a spell?

Feel free to spill before your monomyth becomes a tragedy.

-Jackie