Tag: dark poetry

The Follower

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I remember playing my piano a little too loud that gray evening,

And I remember singing along to every song about pain and grieving.

The snowflakes danced into my room with their frozen smirks,

But the cold spared me as the night came to be just like clockwork.

All the candles on the windowsill swayed along to my lyrics.

Still, the stars blinked distantly like some world-renowned cynics.

And I do not remember hearing you enter my tiny apartment,

Looking like imminent death, ready to finish what has been started.

Your boots left wet and guilty footprints on my beige floors,

You smashed the mirror on my closet, the one I have always adored.

I knew that you looked familiar, and god knows – I remembered

Your face popping up everywhere I went since the last December.

The grin and your bloodshot eyes said it all, but I acted confused,

Like I have never noticed you, never heard you calling me a muse.

“Let me amuse you,” you said while approaching me awfully slowly,

Knowing far too well I am the furthest thing from someone holy.

I remember taking the candles to the curtains, lighting them up,

And I remember you protesting, weakly trying to interrupt.

The wind fanned the flames and they roared with unrestrainable force,

But the heat spared me while it made your voice fragile and hoarse.

With smoke in your eyes, you ran right into my fuming trap.

I pushed you right into the fire, and the flames ran in laps.

The yellow, red, and orange consumed you in a matter of moments.

I really wonder if you ever noticed all the bad luck omens.

-Jackie

Graveyard Like Glass

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The tall grass lightly brushes against my bare ankles

As I walk the graveyard like glass,

Careful not to tip over the white candles.

Your soul stumbles behind me like a lost tourist,

It growls and it mumbles,

And you get lost in the first spring mist.

This is a celebration, yes, this is a true love story.

I might have lost my patience,

The lipstick stains might have turned gory,

But I promise that I can barely feel those bruises.

Do not call St. Thomas,

Do not ask around about the nooses.

We were once so promising, so mesmerizing –

Until you tasted your own medicine

And the bitterness was terrifying.

You threw our lives away, but I tried to retrieve them.

I looked night and day,

Not knowing you were no longer a believer.

Now the tall grass cuts open my pale and freezing feet

As I walk the graveyard like glass,

Careful not to step into the defeat.

No, this cannot be over, just keep following me,

Hold onto my shoulder,

Let me push aside all the debris.

This is a celebration, yes, this is what we needed,

Love without any hesitation,

Trapping the hunger to feed it.

Walk the graveyard like glass, do not fall or break.

Let’s skip the mass,

Let’s swim to the middle of the lake

And put an end to what you so heedlessly started,

Saying I have gone around the bend,

Saying I was coldhearted.

-JW

Let Them Have Their Laughs

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You always knew how to make me tick, you were a machine taking me back in time.

You swore me to secrecy in dark alleys, then covered yourself up like a gory crime.

You spoke at them with the roaring conviction of someone who has not been doing fine.

Despite my reality collapsing like an ivory tower, I still stayed loyally by your right side.

I put my hair up before I left the apartment to defend you and your barely scraped knees,

I walked the roads of shame with your name on my sleeve, carrying it like a past due fee.

I did not know the dry skeletons in your closet have not known one moment of peace.

Despite all their sticks and stones breaking my limbs, I held onto you like Achilles.

They watched as I spilled blood and guts over the pavement, they rolled their eyes.

They knew I was just another one of your toys, lost in love, completely hypnotized.

They let me fight off your nemesis, they did not even try to cut your ropes and ties.

Despite knowing that, I let them have their laughs, just like the last couple hundred times.

-JW

The Manor Chose To Keep Its Silence

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The silence begged me to say by its dim bedside for a moment more.

With its last gurgling breaths, the manor started rotting from the core.

Dirty floors oozed orange and brown puss in the decorated rooms,

The stench was strong enough for the nearby trees to reverse all bloom.

The sounds of the street chimed in like roaring lions looking for prey,

And I could have chosen to fight – but instead I hid my body in the hay.

I watched them devour people, I tasted the blood they volunteered.

The noise grew too loud, so we abandoned those we held dear.

At night I sneaked through the halls, looking for the place silence died.

I thought I remembered the chamber, however, it leaked lullabies.

My thoughts whirled like dust in the wind as I slowly took a step back.

The music came in from every corner, it painted my vision black.

When I finally came to, I could not open my eyes or escape the trap.

My hands were tied behind my back, and a white cat sat in my lap.

Two gargoyles guarded the entrance, stoically holding me hostage.

They knew as well as I did, these captors are cruel to impostors.

For the next five hours I blurred the line between sleep and awareness.

Whenever I woke up, I lost the feeling that I could be fearless.

I heard those villains laughing at me through the chamber walls,

And the sound of their raspy voices made my every emotion small.

When they finally came for me, the manor chose to keep its silence.

It burned down by my side, crumbling under the pressure of tyrants.

They poked out my eyes and cut out my teeth with dull and rusty blades.

As the empty eye sockets leaked crimson, all my fears started to fade.

I dreamed about silence, I prayed for tranquility, just a moment more.

With my last quiet breaths, the sun washed away the horror and gore.

-JW

Lucille’s Dream

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You haunt the halls I walked last year,

You leave them shaking in cold fear.

The walls that built us crumble down,

Leaving bright rust on our crowns.

I bind you with the spells and records,

They blind you with the fruit nectar.

Love, you can find a home in me,

Please do not drink the poisoned tea.

You fear the hands which you once loved,

You buried all our turtle doves.

The chariots that brought you here

Now take your bones to rest, my dear.

-JW

Dead Of Night

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Darling, we only exist on other people’s tongues,

We mix with their saliva and slide between their fangs.

They are a famished crowd, but we feed them well,

And the darker our lives get, the more we sell.

Darling, we exist in old mirrors in their rooms,

We watch as young brides are killed by their grooms.

One day a wise lady will smash the silver surface,

Leave her man crying and burning the doormats.

But it will be an illusion, darling, need not worry.

We will bathe their impure souls in morning glory.

Our story is like Dorian’s, devilishly young.

Darling, we only live beneath other people’s tongues.

-JW

The Old Ways

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You lit black torches in the dark room as I had a blindfold over my eyes.

The dry flowers in the corners grinned, the stench kept away fruit flies.

My skin lost all its pattern when the moon climbed over the horizon,

Grey creatures yelled into my scared face, asking what I was hiding.

They kept me chained to a heavy bed until my limbs felt defenseless.

I cried loud when I tried to escape, so they burned down the fences.

A demon wept in the closet, it tried hard to break my soul in half.

My lungs screeched and growled until I spooked it away with my laugh.

You lit my palms on fire and caressed my hair as the room shook.

The salt on the doorstep ignited, burning down your notes and books.

I looked at the face of my own failure and could not hide a smile.

There has been a beast inside of me, it has been there for a while.

-JW

You

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It is not enough for me to only see you wrapped in the shadows.

As the rain falls through the dark, your voice makes me hollow.

It is not enough for me to only chase you in the palest reflections.

As the candlelight bridges rivers, I have so much spare affection.

It is you I want, it is you I chase like a long forgotten lullaby.

As I wrap my hands around their necks, you are my final alibi.

It is clear – even the creases in your dress are flirting with me.

As you walk home each obscure night, I pray for your courtesy.

It is not a secret, you want me to step into the darkness with you.

As the fog clears, your irises are painted in the softest of hues.

It is not enough for me to only see you wrapped in vibrant life.

As the sun hides, I take your limp body back into the deep night.

-JW

The Lighthouse

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You said I was a lone island with a tall lighthouse in the center, overseeing the seven seas.

You said I was a ruthless king, making laws as I was breaking them, never hearing anyone’s pleas.

I aimed for the throat before I met you, I slashed necks without looking in the victim’s eyes,

But you knew I could not point my blade at you, I could not tie you down with a hundred ties.

You told everyone my stories, and the reflection got distorted enough for me to lose myself.

You spun the mirrors until the image swallowed me, it turned me into a figurine on a shelf.

You said I was a frightening sea creature, luring sailors in my nets, cutting open their dreams.

And no matter how loud I said that you were a liar, your voice still drowned out my screams.

-JW

All Our Wars

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You are my ancestral curse,

Swaying in the wind every fall,

Tangling up my words.

Once in a while I hear the call,

It punctures me like darts,

But I just close the curtains,

Picking apart my broken parts,

Decaying from feeling uncertain.

You are my last blood nemesis,

Racing me for the crown.

I climb your twisted fallacies,

Hoping I can burn this town.

You paint me with parentheses,

Re-explaining my oldest scars,

Claiming I belong on my knees

When I have won all our wars.

-JW