The skin under my eyes grows older each evening
Yet I cannot grow up unless my heart stops beating.
My potential screams at me for being and breathing,
My mascara runs away in streams as I’m kneeling.
The only breeze on my bones is the ghostly face
Who haunts my dreams and leaves a bloody trace.
I store my dark thoughts in the lousiest maze
But once they find the weak point,
I will be buried in haste.
-Jackie
Throw me a lifeline and watch me drown it in the sea.
Come save me in a lifeboat as I burn like a dry tree.
My journey is destined to fail before I pack the bags.
I hope they sell my clothes and bury me in rags.
-Jackie
I wonder if all this emptiness I carry serves as my armor.
Am I saving myself or am I following the recipe for disaster?
Is there more to me than the nothingness and the roaring rage?
I feel like if I take a single step, they will burn this stage.
Therefore, I stay in place and wait for the waves to pass.
Some voices tell me that I am plastic, but I smell like grass.
These memories buried deep in my chest, they want out,
But the whispers are getting louder, so they avoid the crowds.
I wonder if all this loneliness will ever pay off my debts.
Will life come to collect or will it let love trap me in nets?
Everyone promised to warn me when the first cloud formed.
I feel like a desert island caught in the middle of a storm.
-Jackie
The voices that haunt me are deliberating in the corner.
I bet by Monday they will have fresh lies to tell me
And a better plan for getting me to the coroner.
My consciousness is floating in boiling charcoal debris.
As the voices sharpen their crooked yellow teeth,
I struggle to say a word, I struggle to breathe.
They approach me with crosses, raining blood on my bed,
And stare in disgust mixed with vain satisfaction
When I silently whisper, “I would rather be dead.”
The voices that haunt me are screaming my every thought.
I bet by Tuesday they will quiet me down
And dance in the ashes of all the fights I have fought.
-JW
You can smell my blood when I bleed on another operating table.
I feel it – how your eyes change shade, how you call me ungrateful.
As I am allowing another man to cut out my ego like it is a tumor,
You break cathedral glass, killing every spirit who spreads the rumors.
When my blood drips down the drain after yet another procedure,
I know that the humming coming from my anesthetic mind feeds you.
You are locked away behind your stained glass and silver crosses,
But you will survive if you cannot count me as one of your losses.
And when the scars turn into wounds again, I will seek you out.
You will waste your voice on my towering insecurities…
Still, I will enjoy the sound.
-JW
The fragility of my fists plays with my own immortality.
My spinning head survives on promised immoralities,
And if I keep up the pace, I will persevere, I will push through.
My tongue is made of fire, my will is made of glue.
No, I do not let ignorant men block my paths.
I am seeking a destiny that outruns reason and fact.
If my feet could keep up, they would take me to the place.
But no one sees it, they offer me to leave with grace.
Still, I have no grace, only sharp corners made of iron.
My lips are light-years ahead when it comes to firing.
I shoot everyone who does not keep the final pledge
While not noticing that I am headed towards the ledge.
-JW
Do you know what my nothingness tastes like?
It pushes my head under water until it is ripe.
The empty feeling cuts off my hair with scissors,
It pulls on my sleeve until I see vivid visions.
Some gray creatures climb in my fragile chest.
The static goes cold, and I leave out all the rest.
Bright red snowflakes land on my lucid irises,
They drip scarlet into my dearest promises.
Can you imagine what my nothingness tastes like?
I keep drowning as they tell me it is alright.
But the complete abandonment never sinks in.
It is my curse, treating my sanity like a sin.
-JW
The parts I hide sting me with the fury of a forgotten flame.
I’ve been changing my paths while you’ve been looking away.
My soul has been leaking fumes out of the wooden frame.
But the cold metal bites my bones, honey, I know I must pray.
You promised I’d pay for all the storms I rained over you.
Leaving you seems like walking on sunshine, why would I care?
No, you don’t have the right to claim that you feel blue.
I carried your grey remains for years, I’m used to the stares.
The sun is unforgiving, it’s still not as ferocious as I can be.
I cover my truth in disguises while you sing yourself to sleep.
And I’m thinking about leaving, not sure if I can be free.
Maybe it’s just between me and you,
Maybe I can fix this by dragging you into the deep.
-JW
The lingering ghosts from my past are so faded,
I can barely prove they were ever really here.
The same goes for me and the lives I’ve traded.
Some say they only see me when I disappear.
But don’t you underestimate my caution,
The flame in my lungs hides an honest scream.
They told you I can never stop being in motion.
They didn’t tell you that I’m stuck in a dream.
This loop is a cruel beast, this loop is endless,
But I still follow it, hoping to escape the ghouls.
Their cloaks make me too weak and defenseless.
It’s killing me but there’s no goddamn proof.
-JW
Someday the work will pay off the scars it came with.
I will still swallow it like a bitter pill,
Looking for another blameless culprit.
The whispers use my sadness as an overplayed decoy.
But the veins in my neck run with madness,
And I know I deserve joy.
So, once in a while I dip my fingers into the light.
My essence screams in agony.
At least it gets me through the night.
I know this wild river was not meant to be mine,
It was determined before my time,
But lately I have been wondering why.
And perhaps there is life outside of this concrete.
Maybe the scars can heal just fine?
Maybe I must leave the main street?
Yet, my past selves have to eat, and I stay focused.
God, I swear on my life –
This routine feels like walking on roses.
They admire the beauty but never feel my pain.
I still fear that the path I am paving
Will be washed away by the rain.
-JW
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 