Tag: fiction

When They Dragged You Away…

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I cannot write a decent goddamn sentence when you’re not close.

The words just don’t come out right when I can’t rip off your clothes

And strangle your body until everything’s written about, everything’s touched.

I was burning alive when they dragged you away but the people simply watched.

Can’t pull myself together for another second. I need to hear you think.

Never been able to look into somebody’s soul, but I do see yours – unless you blink

And tear it all up with not so loving notes on how I’m not rational. Again.

When they dragged you away, a part of me whispered: “Amen.”

But when it comes to obvious things and stating the facts, it’s simple –

Have loved you since the day you smiled at me one morning. Threw away my wimple.

It sounds dumb, let’s not pretend I ever sound wise speaking of you,

Yet – if I never wrote about your eyes, none of my writing would be true

As each time I sit down to create a tiny graveyard made up from words,

My chest aches. “Write “I love you” a hundred times. Until it no longer hurts.”

-JW

Seventh Heaven?

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I can smell it in your hair – how you’ve missed me yesterday.

I can sense in in your stride – how you want to hold me tight

And whisper in my ear that it’s OK.

I’m so blissfully in love, can you imagine?

My friends would kill me if they knew

How this affair is truly tragic.

The way I burn myself to keep you from freezing

Is not romantic. And if you think I’m blind, please don’t,

I know that I’m not only pleasing him or teasing.

My body gets more tired as the days go by but I don’t feel it –

The manic episode is up and running, no need to heal it

With another dose of pills that once again will make me livid…

There’s nothing less true than me being furious, why do I have to live it

If I can just keep falling for you each day, over and over?

For the first time I feel like I don’t have to look over my shoulder

As I don’t believe my past can figure out my location in seventh heaven.

I’m finally going to confess my love when the clock strikes eleven.

Will you be there when I come clean of the heaviness chasing me?

Will you be there just for the thrills, for the sight you’ll see?

Will you beg me to leave or once again touch my jawline with your eyes,

Acting as you’ve never heard the cries

My body makes when we’re alone and I hear you breathing…

But I hear your body too some days.

It’s pleading.

-JW

Detained

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The only way that you’re pretty

Is that you’re pretty mean.

Hate to like you so much, baby,

But I love your hips, so lean.

The only way you’re chill

Is when your jokes are cold.

Can’t stop laughing at my own expense,

Can’t believe you’re still this bold.

The only way you’re sweet

Is when you sugarcoat your lies.

I’m not surprised, but you’re so neat.

Didn’t you know –

Don’t get high on your own supplies?

The only way that you’re outstanding

Is how naïve you can remain.

Hate to love you’re fits and swearing

But by your side I’ll be detained.

-JW

Written in Indigo

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You’re my ride or die, whether you leave or try. You’re my own.

I don’t really possess you but you can never leave when I groan.

Left a box of my belongings by the door the other day, without a note.

Put a rose on it the next day and a list of poems that you wrote

Thinking of how we’re making each other mad again, how I’m crazy

And you’re out of your mind. We only stopped fighting when we got lazy.

You’re the worst. You’re the devil. You’re everything I hate about this world,

Even a bit more, as you overexaggerate my words and make the truth look whirled.

I want to say “fine” when you’re leaving again but I can’t stop myself from saying –

Please stay. And you raise your voice again, I lose control. I bet the neighbors are praying.

***

I’m so glad this story only exists in my head.

I could’ve kissed you back then but I didn’t, I fled.

I knew if I touched your lips to cause a mayhem,

I would never be capable to function without them.

You’re the reason I’m dancing in the streets in my nightgown, drawing in blood

Messages to all the lovers that said I’m no good.

I’ve never felt like I’m no good with you, even when I’m sincere.

But I’ve also never seen a pair of eyes that I would kill to keep. Oh, dear.

I can’t promise I won’t kiss you tomorrow.

We’ll see if I dare or drown in my sorrow.

Hope it’s both. Our love story will be written in indigo.

Red. Yellow. Skin color. Then again – vertigo

From your fist. Where to go?

-JW

Concierges of Darkness

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It’s true that Jackie once wrote:

“It was so clear that he was the only one for me.”

Or Lana imagined it. I don’t care as long as I agree

That the feeling is poignant, to the bone. It grips you.

The life you could’ve had without him passes by your very eyes,

So long, so far that no one recognizes that it’s you. It’s true.

The feeling traps pain and you doubt the sincerity of it building up,

Of it trying to escape your ribcage like a prison, then saying it’s a cover up.

My thoughts are his now but it also makes them more vivid.

It’s sometimes unbearable to think that one day we’ll become stiff

And rigid.

***

Since the time you introduced me to yourself, we were tied

By being the concierges of each other’s darkness for this ride.

Owning somebody’s piece of mind

Also makes you a participant in the crime

But what is the point of playing it safe and sound

If reality keeps hitting us harder with every round?

“It was so clear that he was the only one for me,” I keep repeating this line

As if you could hear it. I keep trying to survive. You’re the fence to my vine.

I must’ve really gotten my money’s worth when I cut you out

Of the picture I was once so happy to own and show around.

***

If he could only hear me out for one minute

On how I’ve never doubted his love or his repute…

Now it’s all gone in the winds and I can only remember –

I’ve never wanted to wake up since that September.

-JW

A Maniac’s Love Letter

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How come – it’s another day in the fairytale land with so little joy?

You can’t buy the rights to my heart but you can always deploy,

You can always plan so that I don’t escape, yet I don’t really enjoy.

The glory might be the prize but his eyes, they don’t lie,

Chico, they’re my favorite decoy.

I’ve never asked for much when it comes to love, and I swear –

A little sense was all I wanted. Not another mask to wear.

My nerves are built of paper, they burn and they tear.

Not so sure about the others, but if it all breaks loose –

You’re the one I’m gonna spare.

The whites of your eyes look ugly when you roll them, blaring.

You launch them at me like bloodhounds. I think about disappearing

As my last act in this unrequited game. Then I recall us daring

To never leave a fib behind – and it would’ve worked if you weren’t

That passive about baring.

I’m angry. I followed your scent through the mud and got stuck

In this frozen forest with no way out. No matches. I’m out of luck.

But life goes on for you. And it won’t be you, selling tears for a buck,

Desperately waving the white flag and saving for flares to cope

With another day that will suck

In the fairytale land.

How could I dream so grand?

Now my mouth is full of sand

And I’m begging you to take me home

To the places I do understand.

-JW

The Town We Once Walked

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They’re building a casino on the corner we first met.

What a cliché – greed replacing our spot for watching the sun set.

The shop where I bought you socks is closing down,

Maybe it’s too late to ask whether you frown

Before putting them on and going your separate way in our streets –

The town we once walked together is changing, no longer fitting our needs.

The café I told you the truth burned down a week ago, last Tuesday,

And without it the square resembles the doomsday

But only a tiny bit. The rest is plastic and still looks fine.

I’d assume you could still find a nice place there to take her and dine.

Ah, the reality bites harshly, yet the imagination tortures my pride –

What the hell happened? Why did I run? Why did you hide?

It’s not fair of me to put our past ahead of the future you’re planning.

However, I can’t rest in peace with all the verities you’re banning

From your new found realities. These past years have done enough damage –

Of course, would be ironic if we for once decided to salvage

Something that’s sacred and close. Can we even manage?

Loving you still is such a disadvantage.

Ravage. Baggage.

Nothing good ever comes out of two vanished souls trying to escape, to banish

Until we tarnish

When all we really needed was a bandage.

-JW

Distracted

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I’m sitting here, comforting myself – and there’s no one else

I’d rather trust to hold me.

My pounding heart demands a sacrifice each night,

It hopes to die so boldly.

The veins have turned to mist, another substance

They can’t truly carry.

I always think I’m falling when I’m out of secrets

Left to bury.

Living is the strangest thing if you’re alone

But you’re not really lonely.

It almost feels like you’ve made friends with fiction, and for that –

Others call you unholy.

Being the keeper of my youth and audacity to take cover

Might be an extravagant act,

But who is to judge the difference between curses to heaven

And a genuine fact?

Don’t lose your tact

When you are attacked.

The arena is packed

But you don’t have to react.

Distract.

-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

playing jesus

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Three days ago I was head over heels for you. I was craving

Passion so disloyal it had a hit on my moral savings.

The fire exits were blocked and Missio was playing –

I couldn’t make sense of myself, but the reviews were raving.

Two days ago I had envisioned our first crash together,

Like two junkies, and you giving me a jacket in cold weather.

Or did you hate the plan from my very first dream, altogether?

Was it just me thinking of two cigarette buds as of birds of a feather?

Yesterday you had to enter the room twice before I noticed –

Out of the low hanging fruits, you reached for the lowest.

It must’ve really stung when you saw yourself falling out of focus

But don’t call yourself the victim when your alibis are bogus.

Today you shot your warnings and ended up gravely heedless.

It’s funny to think – I don’t know a person that I could need less.

Despise that the warmth of your neck still leaves me speechless.

Must’ve been a nightmare if I decided to fall for another one

In a desperate need to be jesus.

-JW