Tag: Don't Take Me With You

Your Debt

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But I defy you with my one last breath.

If I try you again,

You’ll be double the threat.

I hold onto a thread that’s pulling me home.

No one knows

The depths I visit once I’m alone.

But I conquer them with your blotchy past

That you brandish

Like a fairy-tale for the masked.

I’m uncovered, I’m free from your jail,

But I’m short on spite,

Too prone to bail.

I must fight it, god, please light me up.

I’m so stuck,

Freezing quickly from the top.

And your eyes tie me down like a leash.

Now I see why it’s lonely

Leading the world from a mezzanine.

One face in the clouds, it’s pristine.

The second face trembling,

Covering up a murder scene.

Still, I pity you through my first unbound breath.

I’m guilty too

But I won’t carry your debt.

-JW

Wait Up

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The mask is slipping,

Ripping my veil open at the stitches.

But my temper switches

Between keeping the riches and keeping my pride.

“Such a waste of a beautiful bride.”

My spite boils like the desert sun.

I hold the gun close to my right

With no one in sight except heroes and foes.

I’ve been travelling through lows.

And maybe it’s your time to start unravelling…

The mask if halfway off.

Enough.

Leave the cuffs, let the covered half pay what’s due.

It takes two to turn my guts true –

So wait up,

I’m coming with you.

-JW

Rinse And Repeat

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I am sinking bad omens in the hungry autumn waves.

They whirl around, they hide nervously in dim sea caves

But I am eager to catch every last one and kill it,

Put the bones on an open flame, cook them in a skillet.

I count them on my fingers until my knuckles bleed.

There is always another one – or so says my greed.

And I will not let a new curse ring my doorbell,

No matter the fantasy, no matter their hard sell.

I spend days looking for a new poison to purchase.

The best is still sold in medieval churches,

Wrapped in false beliefs but I do not mind it –

They contain poison too if you know where to find it.

Each evening I walk the pier with an omen, I drown another.

“This one will save me from myself and my brothers.”

Whenever I think there is no one left to vanish,

My ego visits me, deeply ashamed and way too famished,

And begs of me to go on the hunt just one last time…

I hear some whisper that I am creating this loop

But I will never admit such a crime.

-JW

My Latest Test

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I give you the nights.

I gift you all the moments when I feel clarity in my sight.

And I hope they serve as a word of warning –

About those who deem harming the ones you create

As the highest form of art.

But you were never an artist at heart,

You just trapped my stamina,

Raised it like a wild animal.

But I never complained, not once,

And now we both live under two different suns.

So I give you my nights,

The only time I’m safe from the limelight.

Be wary of the power of this gift, dear,

Hold back all the childish fear.

The pitch black mist consumes those

Who accept stolen goods from their foes.

But my pride was never stolen, was it?

Go ahead, accept my nights as the deposit

And hope you’re not the next

Failing my latest test.

-JW

Scarlet Rhymes

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Your brain, it dictates you dark poetry.

Come and carve an artwork out of me.

I bleed black when you cut me open.

Baby, I’ve long been broken

Far beyond repair –

So don’t try to fixate on the just or the fair.

Cut away until there’s only an inky void left.

“Robbing me of breath is not a theft.”

Do your worst,

I’m neither your last nor your first.

Clean your knives without any guilt,

Don’t mind the guts that I’ve willingly spilled.

Trap my essence in a whiskey bottle,

Hide the mottle.

You need not worry when you fall asleep.

It wasn’t a creak,

It was only the wind in the attic.

Go ahead, close your eyes to the sound of static.

You didn’t hear the bottle break,

These days nightmares feel far from fake.

And the sound of blades getting sharpened

Shouldn’t make you this disheartened.

So don’t turn your head left.

“Robbing me of breath is not a theft.”

It is, however, a neon red perfidy

And, my dear, respectably and cursedly

You’ll bleed blue in your gilded sheets

Until your tongue is out of cheats.

My brain will dictate me scarlet rhymes

As it carves sense out of your senseless crimes.

-JW

Your Creations

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I’m like a dog on a leash barking at the passing cars.

Well, at least that’s what you have to say

About me in smoke filled bars.

But when was the last time you checked my collar?

Was the chain strong enough

To choke my pride with dollars?

And I know you’re paranoid these days, it shows,

Because I no longer howl at the moon

Whenever you feel low.

You’re looking behind your shoulder when it’s quiet

Because you know you taught me well

How to be proudly violent.

It hangs over your head, the confusion and disrespect.

You can’t fix my lust for blood

With a significant check.

And you don’t dare to ever look under your bed –

That’s where I dragged all the corpses

Of those you left for the dead.

So I might be the dog on a leash but I truly believe

You are the man tortured by his own creations

In his sleep.

-JW

Your Paper Crowns

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I walked through fire for you to hold the crown as a prize.

Imagine my surprise

When you told me you can’t recall my name.

Look at the frame,

The one behind your left lying eye

With me holding the barricades in place, head held high.

But go on and call me a traitor,

Soon you’ll be lacking innocent saviours

To sacrifice on hills filled with sports cars.

And trust me – I’ll walk through fire again to burn down your farce,

I’ll go to hell if it means you’re coming

To get a little loving

From the prince of lies himself.

He would put your face on the highest shelf

Of poor runner-ups

But you would never make a fuss

Because your head would be laminated,

Tongue dilated,

As I let your lips parch

While all those you’ve betrayed since last March

Take away your dignity and leave you to fight alone.

You’re not allowed a word or a moan.

They, too, walked through fire to hold the prize.

Imagine their surprise

When you swore that a paper crown would suffice.

-JW

Counting Down

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Once the droplets settle on the glass we both know it’s over,

But we still count down the minutes in case this’ll pass

As we grow older.

I draw circles in the humid air, slowly and somewhat patiently.

The leaves keep getting stuck in my frizzy weekend hair,

And then you say to me:

“Maybe something somewhere is better than this crushing feeling.

We’re both so young, yet looking the worse for wear,

We’re wilfully bleeding.”

But I take your words with a grain of salt and an ounce of solace.

It’s difficult to leave when parting ways is no one’s fault –

Yet, this love is lawless.

Once the droplets settle on the grass we both know it’s time,

But we still count down the seconds in case it’ll pass

With the freezing clime.

-JW

The Story, Retold

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Paint my face greyer than October mists

With the lightning bolts you strike

From your angry fists.

Dance around the subject when they ask

Whether exiling me

Was an easy task.

But never submit an answer worth their wait

So I keep being the last thing

On your plate.

A scandal or two won’t break a “good man”.

But if I play the cards wrong

They won’t understand.

And they’ll wonder where I went off the rails

When I accepted freedom

With all that it entails.

The next time you see me, call me an enemy.

Let my grey face fade

From your memory.

We’ll just play two strangers for everlong

As their thunderstorms

Paint the story all wrong.

Bleach

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I hold onto the cold banister

As they beg you:

“Please banish her.”

But you aren’t my punisher

So stand down.

Stay behind the barrier.

I know how to self-sabotage,

Say words like:

“We are meant to last.”

Then cut open the mirage,

Detach the wings

From the fuselage.

I contemplate my realities

As you wait it out

While the crowd isn’t pleased.

Fight again or appease?

The latter option

Feels like a sweet release

So I let go of what is out of reach.

Release the banister,

Let you win the siege.

Never trust those who preach

That life’s better

When soaked in bleach.

-JW