My arrows shoot for the tall trees,
And the forest stands perfectly still.
I try to set my ringing rage free,
But it does not bend to my will.
Long nails push against my temples
As the night crawls into my chest.
The fresh air waves and trembles,
And anger throws me out of the nest.
The birds laugh in my pale face,
But I make sure to grit my teeth.
Even if my steps can be traced,
They won’t get a chance to make me bleed.
-Jackie
I hope all the men I never forgave can forgive themselves one day –
Because I won’t, because I can’t,
The gods of peace aren’t answering my prayers.
I hope that all those men take back what they gave me –
An ego that’s sixteen floors high
With nobody on the ground to save me,
Just a crowd watching, dreaming up an alibi.
No, I don’t hold onto grudges, I use them as stones to throw.
My will was stolen as a joke,
Now I parade it in a cage like a wild animal during a show,
Hoping all those men choke.
I might sound angry to you,
Go ahead and assume the worst of me.
Some men stole my sky and painted me cobalt blue,
Now I watch birds fall and die in agony.
So, I hope all the men I could never excuse
Find their own way to accept that they are now my muse.
Let my ink drip on their skin like an unwarranted touch.
Permission is never welcome,
I’ve learned that much.
-JW
It burns within me like hot coals before the first autumn rain.
They evacuate the fields and release all the foals,
They block half of the lanes.
The heat chars my insides with the fury of molten titanium,
And everything I’ve ever known splits, it divides,
Fracturing this entire millennium.
The time bursts wide open, overcooking my ribcage to a crisp.
They call the screams a bad omen
And hide themselves in the October mist.
But the boiling point keeps nearing as my lids leak dusty lava.
It’s what they’ve been fearing –
My glowing eyes starting another melodrama.
A single ruby red beam escapes my chest, I ignite the grey sky.
And as the fog settles onto them like a net,
They find their own anger tongue tied.
-JW
The Red is piercing my skin and pushing furious tentacles out of my neck.
With every heartbeat the scene turns brighter, I’m caught in a self-made wreck.
The green contact lenses I’m wearing can’t hide the pressure raising within,
I know my eyes glow in sultry carmine, I know I’ve lost my linchpin.
The nails click on surfaces, they dig into walls, they pull out my own hair.
The Red comes in waves and it leaves me crying for a chance to fight fair.
But they own my guts and let me sleep in them, too, just for another payday –
So I snap at myself for reasons unknown, convinced that I’m their prey.
The Red punishes me, it holds my nerve ends under deadly avalanches.
Fixing the damage feels like welding together burned and broken branches.
And soon enough every part of my torso is covered in a crown of flames
So I let the yet untamed Red out to play with its creators,
The instigators of my deep shame.
-JW
Quite tragic what happened when I dropped you and left.
I turned away dramatically while holding your spine
Like a cigarette.
At least that’s what you’re telling them, that’s how I know
That when I left, you made me into an amusement park,
Into a travelling show.
Not a circus, just a bare stage and bad storytelling.
I can tell you lie because your tongue is sour from spite
And it’s rapidly swelling.
It hurts to re-run the memories, to think about how I quit.
You were extremely vile but I wasn’t scared – so go,
Take away your friendship that’s counterfeit.
-JW
It’s one of those days. Someone breaks the news, the news break my bones.
Simple, logical. I’m lost in time and space. I’m freeing the dusty thrones.
Marching around the room aimlessly, memories bursting by my teary eyes,
Light speed is nothing compared to the rush of these thoughts, these lies.
I’m deep in self-pity and misery, angry at the destiny that cost me the sky.
Why do I only believe that there’s a god when I’m high on the cupid’s supply?
Then my song comes on. It crumbles. The reality reappears fresh as a daydream.
I start remembering all the parts you didn’t own, how I was always the A-team.
And the freedom sets me jumping up and down, flying down a flight of stairs.
My father used to say that goodbyes are only bitter if the opponent fought fair.
All life spent running from demons – maybe this is the one I beat facing him directly?
Maybe you were the one wicked curse not going in for the kill,
Maybe you shot to protect me?
-JW
Anxiety is making me choke on dry bones,
I spit up barb wire. I’m in there alone.
The pressure rings louder than my ears can take,
It’s unsettling. I’m in there alone and I mustn’t hesitate.
I can’t play it safe.
The crashes and wrecks continue to frighten
But the guards are awake so I’m keeping it silent.
My nails are scraping the floors and the vents.
Where is the end?
Every turn keeps coming back to yesterday’s events:
Two fingers of whiskey, three unpaid rents.
Your lungs made of glass, heart filled with gasoline.
Might get you high, might be a fast release.
I’m grabbing my own hair, pulling out grenade rings.
Would kiss a chainsaw just so I don’t have to think.
But you knew it already – my ego is made out of dangerous things.
If you escape the hellfire by jumping in water,
your boat will sink.
-JW
My imagination keeps hurting me, it’s making up these memories.
It’s brining up these things that never happened, and playing the saddest melodies.
I needed very little but you made it complicated. You made me the fool.
For the rest of my days I’ll regret thinking that I knew you. I’ll make it a rule:
That you never lay your thirsty glaze on my spine before I grab a knife.
But you don’t make it easy, you read into my words. Please, get a life.
Pack your bags and go torture another creature in love with the helpless.
I would write a memoir about your messes, but there’s not a book that would sell less.
My imagination keeps hurting me, it’s bringing up these late night feelings.
But let’s not waste our time on those who are out of sight, let’s go with the proceedings.
By all means, let’s not waste another second discussing unimportant affairs.
We all know that love only tastes good when it’s mixed fair.
-JW
Can’t take another step in that direction, cannot proceed
With acting like nothing’s lost. Like I don’t have mouths to feed.
What if it’s only my greedy mouth, who cares?
It won’t be your feet that’s cold. Won’t be your feet that’s bear.
For better or worse, I’ve always decided to climb despite the weather.
The tallest of mountains I’ll conquer just for the headline and aether.
No one cares if the loudmouth eats by the end of the day, do they?
“They’re here to distract and get the job done, and they never really obey.”
Who are you to judge who gets paid when you don’t know the job?
I’ve been bleeding and barely breathing for the past four months,
Feels like I’ve got robbed.
But there’s no place for my angst here, have to suffer alone.
They’ll ensure I never blink or roll my eyes, and watch the tone.
“You better pick up you phone
Before the fat lady sings,
Otherwise, you’re gone.
Don’t walk the place like it’s your own.”
How about you watch while I spill your deepest fears and a few cheap beers
In the fucking cell while your bosses hear –
I bet they will be all ears…
-JW
Anger is never a loud clamor covered in a cast iron case–
It’s a lot of dissonance trapped in a narrow space.
An Olympic arena filled with control freaks
Or people who followed because they could not sleep.
It’s always been about how you tell a story, not about how you live it.
Three sour half-truths make poisonous decoy a gimmick.
Give or take, the fog is raising and building a cruel circus –
You know too much when I’ve barely scratched the surface.
***
We know each other through shiny shower heads and hotel parking lots,
And we know that neither of us is the breadwinner type when coming up with devious plots.
My bloodline branded you as one that has a wondering eye, no Lasik,
And your wife would agree when you touch my thighs, so pervasive.
I’m too weary to concentrate on those calling me a schemer or escort,
Too tired of senseless forgiveness about taking it one step too short.
All I want is your hand in mine but what I get is risible ire,
An irritating need to keep you as my wonderful, wonderful desire
Whilst the world goes more haywire.
-JW
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 