Once again we’re dancing towards the shore,
Hoping there’s a bigger love,
Hoping there’s something more.
You know – I’m ready to let go of the control.
Eyes open, fingers at ease –
My soul’s out on a parole.
Don’t go. Inhale the thunders. Exhale the storm.
The coast plays with our visions,
The silence rings an alarm.
And we keep dancing towards the shore,
Knowing there’s a bigger love,
Knowing – there’s always a little more.
-JW
Running down empty lanes and drives of the city I once knew,
Assuming I can find you again in this plastic, dusty zoo.
Looking around street corners and under each empty bin.
The lust is my greatest enemy but right now it tastes as good as sin.
No self-esteem left once I empty the last of my pride in these streets
And I don’t want to trade my soul away for another misdeed.
I keep my eyes open when I cry
To make sure your face doesn’t slip by.
I’m releasing the numbness just for you.
I wish you could dare to need me too.
-JW
The weight of the stares towering over my body is crushing all hope within.
The clock on the wall is wearing me down, bruising my patience paper-thin.
As the loneliness sets into my muscles, my lids are opened by a sound.
I stare into the darkness of the room. I let out a sigh and let my heart pound.
I see him there, serious as ever, empty pockets and expensive shoes.
For a second the mask slips and he grins, on his chin a pale round bruise.
One step in my direction, then two, now we’re only moments apart.
I blink and he’s gone, the weight is pulling me down with all force…
But it’s alright, we’re no longer back at the start.
-JW
The nurses rush into the room carrying sleep medication.
I try to refuse but my addiction wants to feed its temptations.
A cold needle in my knee, I squirm but keep myself patient.
If I hush a bit more, we can conquer the sleep deprivation.
The doctors hold my arms down as I gasp and reach for air.
All the pain inside is too much to handle with simple despair.
With the last of my strength I watch them cut off my hair.
If I suffer a moment more, they’re going to bury my soul bare.
-JW
Lull air. Muted sounds. Pastel colors.
Walls covered in lies and gilded Madonnas.
Dull headache. Severe injuries all over.
Wounds patched together with a single clover.
Unsteady breathing. Calming voices. Plastic.
Draconian measures taken to keep me spastic.
Ice cubes melting on my stomach. Cleansing.
An act of kindness to make me forget
The walls, chasms and dim gothic fencing.
I must remember, I have to retell the story…
But the trance overpowers me
And the pastel walls turn gory.
-JW
The weather is perfect for carrying another predicament.
Go ahead and curse me out,
Send the dogs right after my scent.
The leaves in visibly plastic trees beg for attention
And I carry out their every wish.
They notice but never once mention.
The air pierces my left lung and pinches the heart repeatedly.
Stab wound on stab wound, well layered,
Silencing me in perfect harmony.
The roofs of recently built homes covered in nasty rust.
I close my right eye to see clearer.
The sun turns tenebrous, the winds break my trust.
-JW
Slender figures rushing the foggy streets in agony,
Struggling to pay for the rent of their own minds,
An irony, a travesty.
I run with them past armed guards and loopy culverts.
The dogs are onto us the second we hit the road.
They want to make us the culprits.
We see purple cloaks rolling down the streets like carpets,
Altering the sights of the city, choking out those
That grew defiant.
Rays of sun playing on sharpened edges of machetes.
The weak are taken back to their rooms with menace,
Others become enlistees.
The fog is entering my flaring nostrils, it’s spreading.
My legs become numb to the pain of their teeth.
I fall on the floor, staining the bedding.
-JW
They ensure that we’re kept alone during the nights
Because during the nights time stands still.
It never, ever flies.
It’s a simulator ride through the paths of our brain
That should’ve been kept under supervision,
Locked in the chains.
They ensure we can hear each other screaming at night
Because at night the sound travels faster
And it dims the light.
It’s a haunted attraction we paid for with our last morals
But we never agreed to participate
So why are they giving us back our dollars?
-JW
A new foggy moon rises above the city, it burns like acid
And it runs on pain we’re swallowing to keep ourselves gaslit.
There aren’t any blushing faces, only grey wooden sculptures
Carved out of those of us who forgot when to unfollow the culture.
Enchanted silver surfaces set out as traps –
We do know better but we still give in,
We burn the books and the maps.
A new Gravitron sun spins around us making the city dizzy
And it runs on the acid we’re spitting up to pretend we’re busy.
No eyes looking up in the streets, just crowds blending together,
Dragging their feet towards the buzz of heads being severed.
Enchanted silver surfaces set out as traps –
We do know better but we still give in,
We burn the books and the maps.
-JW
There are abandoned factory buildings as far as I can see,
There are leaves red as blood on a knife after a killing spree.
There are winds as cold as sin, but warmer than my hands
And there are shackles on my ankles, imported from France.
The city I’ve long forgotten stands before me so tall.
The city that branded me rotten, the place that shrunk me small.
Each wall explodes dust and it colours my skin oddly grey.
Each wall in this city views its visitors as an overdue prey.
I’m shoved into my room, put under a neon microscope lens.
The gates, doors and bridges are shut behind me
And I’m back in Ante.
No memories, no joy and no friends.
-JW
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 