"Don't Take Me With You" series – Page 2 – The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright

You swore to gods that your patience for me was long gone

When you cut me off like a deceitful con.

Even though you barely kept your head above the water

You never tried becoming a better father.

You stole time and trust from anyone who mattered

But my alliances were never scattered.

The night we last met your intentions were see-through.

I prayed – please don’t take me with you.

You never drove off that bridge in your selfish sadness.

Yet, you showed me the purest form of madness.

It’s been 6 years since I last heard your excuses,

But the pain you brought still feeds my muses.

And maybe, just maybe, you took me with you after all?

Because the rage I breathe feels like an endless fall.

-JW

My tongue gets sour and bitter, it dreams up revenge fantasies.

A while back I hired it a babysitter

But it still screams out violent prophecies.

They try to bite me with their fangs, strip me of the power,

Acting as the god almighty

While I recklessly destroy and devour.

And I know they refuse to be scared of my baby pink guts.

But my blade, it makes moves.

It doesn’t stop until someone else rots.

My teeth get blacker with each hex that I spew at their swords.

But they’ve brought their hijackers,

They take over my thoughts and words.

Although I know it’s too late, my tongue sharpens its knives

Ready to unleash all the hate

Right back at their crooked hives.

So the bitterness slips away, I trip on its tails while it passes,

And I’m fit to fight again

Until they whisper my name in history classes.

-JW

Tag: "Don't Take Me With You" series