Tag: dissapointments

Francis Scott

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And to people who fell for the illusion of me doing well which I created –

I believed it too, but my mind stood in the cold and stayed berated.

Put one finger into the dark molasses, hit one more nail into the coffin.

Built a crematory of burnt bridges and needles dropping.

Yet – my gullible soul waited for the pain to soften.

I believe that everyone deserves a re-do but I wanted to have two

And maybe that’s too much to ask from my younger self, she’s still missing clues.

Once they reveal what’s hidden, she’ll learn not to overpay her dues.

In the distance I yet again see a sign blinking “What’s the use?!”

When I turn the other cheek, they steal my insecurities to turn me into a muse.

I know how to cause a fight but I’m yet to learn how to make it easy for me.

They once called me Francis Scott – all focused on the glitz, not on the story.

And I’ll keep covering my tortured being with saying “sorry”

When I don’t owe a single apology to people who came before me.

So fall for the mirage, don’t hesitate to bathe in pain’s glory.

-JW

A Single Rose

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Whimsical headlines of breaking news pop up on my screen.

I don’t see them – it’s another evening where the world seems so mean.

I hate everyone I’ve ever known again as they simply don’t listen,

They just sit there and watch me burn, pretending I glisten.

Nobody knows me but they act as they do – the effort’s all mine,

I made sure to write down their habits, old crushes and zodiac sign.

There’s these paragraphs floating and building a story in my mind

Of each person that I know – their life stories, and what they left behind.

I could write a book about every human I’ve ever cared about at the slightest

But I don’t think it ever worked both ways, their ideas of me remained lightless.

Out of vices most difficult for me to carry, egoism is the one to crush my shoulders –

When I’ve told you three times and you insist on not caring, it’s my mental state that smolders.

But if it’s not the case, and out of nothing I’m feeling this rage…

What do you know about me, then? My second name, hometown or age?

What’s the book I read on the train when I was 15 that was missing a page?

What foods do I hate and why do I avoid bars at all costs?

What’s the color of my bag that I once so stupidly lost?

Do you know these answers, do you know the most?

Or are you just another ghost

Stumbling up on the pieces of someone you once called close

To put down a single rose?

-JW

The Monsters You Love

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Photo by Nicolas Postiglioni

The first one will bury your mind’s worst graveyards,

He’ll dig to cement some sense in your broken parts

to make boulevards. Or counterparts.

Serving him proves your desire and the remarkable skill,

Yet they seem not to notice the sadness and the sleeping pills.

(From now on will call the suicide attempts

unconfirmed kills.)

The second one’s someone with a magnetic field,

He’s the one to attract, you’re the one to shield.

Although well aware he’s the one to cause trauma,

He’ll blame you for wasted love and for drama.

His presence will haunt you and swallow your pride

(because months back you wanted to be his bride).

The last one will stay, through harsh and through mellow,

She’ll change dark blue into canary yellow.

You won’t notice, but one day she’ll pack and she’ll run,

And your curses will feel like a midnight sun

To her disappearing silhouette,

Dead set, like the day we met.

***

My brain is a wasteland for your bitterness

And your bites, so vain, stink like helplessness.

Yet you manage to stain every fragment and pore.

Yes, your words turn me into another whore,

A slave for money, still so goddamn poor.

The loneliness unwraps, it’s hollow and soar.

Run to the door. Slowly, my dear, a little bit more.

When the breeze hits your face, the fanfares of escape will roar

Bullets will cover my sloop of war.

***

I haven’t yet met a monster so unlovable:

That sentence in it self is disprovable

Yet probable.

Ironical.