My bed has sharp canines, and it has a strong jaw.
It wraps its mouth around my weakened claws,
Reminding me through loud growls and moans
That all I have is myself, and myself alone.
My sheets have a poisonous touch, and it numbs me.
Before I know it, the fabric hits me like morphine.
I cannot move, so I just wait until it passes,
And the chemicals break my fogged up glasses.
-Jackie
Tonight, I cannot let myself fall asleep,
Cannot follow them when they drag me into the deep.
One eye open, one eye rolled back.
I lie on my bed with a knife behind my back.
The ceiling is black like a starless night,
And I am counting breaths before the end of this fight.
One eye open, one eye on the door.
This is not my first war, they have been keeping score.
There is always more than just this darkness.
My heart is obscure, but it is praying to the fathers.
One eye open, one eye looking at them,
Snarling, shaking, hot drool sparkling like gems.
No, I cannot follow them, I must stay,
Must keep their sharp nails and claws away.
One eye open, one eye unfazed.
As they reach for my neck, sunrays hit my face.
Saved.
-JW
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
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
I reflected at the still lakes,
I searched through hundreds of wells.
They say I am missing my heart.
Well, I do not know where it fell.
The mirror image says nothing.
I am out of pity and patience.
The deep waters still scare me,
Even if they are an imitation.
My thoughts joke crudely,
Taking away the humanity I saved.
The left leg punches thin air,
The right one breaks, trying to be brave.
And I am stuck at the beginning,
Always tied to one more hope.
The end is reaching out its sharp claws.
I am headed for the downward slope.
-JW
The time runs by,
And I can hear myself ticking.
It is this broken clock within,
It is this faded clipping
That tells me smudged lies
And calls peace a compromise.
But I am running low in ink,
Graphite will not suffice.
Minutes pass in a blink.
I am losing the disguise,
Crouched over the kitchen sink,
Pulling out my own eyes.
And the time runs by,
I can hear myself clicking.
My hourglass cracks into two,
My memories start slipping.
-JW
Trams pass through me at midnight, they’re all empty and sound,
And I stand on the rails pushing away spiky, grey clouds.
The silence disarms me but the darkness melts like warm butter,
My feet weaken by the second as shame angrily splutters.
The asphalt is the path of the forgotten – yet, my legs get weaker.
It’s a shame, really, I’ve only been running for one weekend,
But my high-flying morals have turned into a deadly splinter
That will kill off all my innocence by the next winter.
The red in my cheeks is crawling up to the whites of my eyes.
Perhaps I rushed when accepting this Trojan horse of a prize –
Even the road less travelled can turn into the bleakest routine
If you’re already a ghostly mist masked as a fine-tuned machine.
But escaping the truth can only get one so far, and I knew it.
I raised the seven headed dragon, then waltzed right through it –
Until it burned me to a crisp while I pretended to be its king…
Now I walk the streets as a wisp of charcoal smoke
With two scarlet scars replacing my rosy wings.
-JW
Trees by my window turn chartreuse, they have lungs to feed and souls to sting.
The birds return home with the highest of winds, bringing the first breath of spring.
My eyes feel like an anchor in this scene, they’re ruining the view with bright red fear.
The blood I shed for vile creatures keeps visiting at night, threatening to disappear.
And I worry – maybe I got out too late to ever pull myself back together again?
Maybe I truly played my last card, ceiled the faith, and lost myself as a friend?
The pound of flesh I offered them for free wasn’t an invitation to rob my skull empty –
But I thought once I left, we would be even, yet, I’m broken and they still have plenty.
So where is the fairness my ego promised? Where are the roaring melodies?
The life spins faster and faster around me but I no longer feel like its centrepiece.
And the trees get greener, the city gets louder, the sunlight numbs me to the bone.
I pray each night to the gods I dethroned
That I still have the spite to never answer the phone.
-JW
The voices get angrier when the big searchlight in the sky goes out.
They try to take me through the paths that gaslight and sow doubt.
I chase the intrusive thoughts away by turning into a bright red blot,
And it is not necessarily a goal of mine but I am shooting my shot.
I crawl on my knees through the darkened streets without any shame.
The sounds echo in my brain without finding a corner to tame.
But the stars above me look like silver clots in a dark despair sea,
The humming of its silky splashes tail my mind in a minor key –
Until there is nothing else, just another rigid body in the water.
Someone will pull me out with a fishing line, call me their daughter.
The cycle repeats, the runaway in me starts loving the searchlights.
Too often the happiest endings never happen
Because of the darkest nights.
-JW
Do you even remember when I caged up your cast iron heart like a bird of prey,
Breaking each promise I made to myself in the most exhilarating way?
And I buried that cage away, under unidentifiable skulls and pale blue plastic,
I dug it so deep that your clear voice turned into some rusty static.
The lucid sunsets I used to watch from my bed turned uninviting and dull.
All the air around me shrunk in size until the atmosphere was a screaming null.
I placed my palms on the marks in my skin you left without thinking twice…
So I hope you remember this time because I’m setting ablaze our splice.
-JW
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 