High Towers

Photo by Adrianna Calvo from Pexels

Bullet holes and bullet points scattered on grey brick walls for me to chant.

It’s either one or the other – the options are limited in the land of the grand.

The street corners are cynically empty – and doesn’t this simply prove the point?

“Leaving your walls is a disheartening happening one must always avoid.”

Sorry, that wasn’t me, another writing on bricks is broadcasting my shadows.

Would’ve shot the out of tune frequency in the heart but they took all my ammo.

The longer I search, the greyer these horizons become to my neon-bound imagination.

The more I dig up the clues, the more I’m convinced this heavy blood needs chelation.

High towers look down at me from across the sea when I reach the desired shore.

They pledge to protect me if I fight for a decade but I’m way too soar.

Cliffs let go of my feet as I’m pulled back to the streets washed with fine greed.

The echo chases me down yet misses by second, repeating the words:

“You must lead.”

Only once freed. Only once freed. Only once freed. Only once freed.

-JW

Exitlude

Photo by Maggie Zhan from Pexels

But she fights back,

Flipping off the pearl Cadillacs,

Spitting up cigarette ash.

And the clothes won’t fit like they do on rack,

And no one cares in the city of trash.

She was broken long ago,

You can barely hear the crack.

Let her go.

With or without you paying attention

She will win herself back.

-JW