Tag: heartbreak

Lips Of A Crowd

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I enjoyed our love much better when I saw it on TV,

With pre-written sentiments and romance

Measured in electric scenes.

I wish it was harder to move onto the next faked paradise.

But the promised lands keep rising

So I refuse to compromise.

I wish I was sorry, I wish you could hire all the best critics.

They would promise you that it’s fine

To never share the writing credits.

What you offered in shine, you held back in desired solace.

I bet nowadays you laugh at those who ask

What it means to be honest.

Maybe some great stories are not supposed be this loud,

And it’s better we ruptured quickly

Between the lips of a crowd.

-JW

History’s Greatest Heartbreaks

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Writing letters to the ghost of your face in my window never helped.

My pencil was sharp enough to kill a man

But I stabbed books on the shelves.

I carved harsh words into the rocks hiding at the deep end,

Wishing I could take a jab at you instead,

Just to let go of this empty feeling.

My starving mind exhumed the memories and made me look

As the skeletons of our love faded,

Turned into thieves and crooks.

But maybe evaporation’s more beautiful than combustion,

And not all the history’s greatest heartbreaks

End in a crime of passion.

-JW

Our Clocks

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A week before we met I was writing suicide notes on silver displays.

A week before we met I drifted neck deep into a greyish haze.

But you were unaware when you opened the filthiest of my stiches,

You were inadvertently smoothing out some colossal bugs and glitches.

What began as a joke, ended in you sewing together a hopeless bleeder.

I didn’t know how, I didn’t know why, and you didn’t know it either.

But I plucked the thought of us out of my head without second guessing,

Said I fixed it myself in order to keep my lying bones from confessing.

I fought it hard, yet soon enough – I drank from the gilded chalice.

Your eyes became the rotten green light to my Gatsby’s palace.

And, damn, I loved you. I loved you like I’ll never love another man.

The melody of your laughter composed symphonies in my tired head.

The closer we grew, the quieter the world around our lives became.

Neither one of us seemed to mind if you and I remained the same…

A week after you held me, they exchanged our sky lanterns for rocks.

A week after you held me, they tore us apart for palladium blocks

And they obliterated all our calendars,

All our clocks.

-JW

Two Morbid Nightmares

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I watched you die last night in my sleep. I wept “take me instead”.

No one seemed to notice the tragedy –

You lying still in your bed.

The covers where mint green and your hands were so cold.

I held onto your pale paper skin for too long,

Exploring it fold by fold.

The sound of my screams awakened me at 5AM this morning.

I hope you’re okay, I don’t do well

With flowers and mourning.

I watched myself die in my sleep two nights back, I was at ease

Because you were the last thing I dreamt of

Before I went to sleep.

What a miserable truth, what a miserably romanticized existence –

Dying is the easiest part,

But it gets difficult when we have to face the distance.

-JW

The Show Mustn’t Go On

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I lit thirteen black candles to get you out of my four chambers

And I prayed to the gods and devils, even some saviors.

Every last belonging of yours I tossed out of the blurry window,

Every corner of my cell I cleaned, still –

You called me a bimbo.

Or was it my shattered ego throwing a tantrum once again?

I can’t compete with this, your venom is my ritualistic sin.

Four days I’ve been counting the seconds to our next row.

Baby, I’ll hit where it hurts but you’ll always go low.

Shows like this mustn’t go on, despite the audience chanting.

Whenever we crash again, they’ll call it a fabulous landing.

I’m over being type-cast as your next big step to freedom.

If you grow your demons for too long,

Someone needs to feed them.

It won’t be me, unfortunately, I’d rather run with my heathens.

The neon city might crash my bones but I’m not looking for Eden.

The next time you come down from the clouds pale, empty handed

Please keep in mind – it is still me you carved and forever branded.

You were never stranded.

-JW

My Best Bet

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The arcades across the street are tempting my senses.

You are holding my hand, asking not to leave,

Counting expenses.

Casinos all across the strip losing power at your sight.

There and then I drop the cigarette and know –

This is a holy rite.

Balancing the sadness and joy between coins dropping.

Burned out fiction worlds crumbling around me,

Expectations flopping.

My best bet is still you but the dices keep rolling.

Flush is not good enough and I know I’m done,

Even without polling.

Sometimes an overheard victory is a lose-lose game.

I kick open the door and sigh.

Took all the riches home tonight but – why?

All that remains is the absence of you and shame.

-JW

Seeing Red

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You sat there, one feet away, your arm right by mine. Your warmth – numbing.

I wish they could see me getting looked at this way.

They said I’m just trouble and my father left because of my shortcomings.

You brushed the fear away and you held me back when I was seeing red.

But when the sand castles I built came apart, I was screaming at the sea –

And yet, you didn’t see me as a threat.

You called me crazy a few times, I called you a moron, and we called it a day.

No matter what happens, your cheek in my hand is what matters,

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

You danced to the silly records I put on this afternoon when you thought it’s lost.

The circles you drew in the air while smiling at me

Was probably what I loved the most.

You have to go soon. You don’t know it yet but you have to leave.

I will drop out of this manic phase, I will break your heart without noticing.

By the corner we met you will heave.

You still are the only person I’m truly sorry to. I wish they could see me.

The way you looked at me like you could read between the lines of my mind

Made me think you could never leave me.

You know you can’t. I promise I’ll make it easy. My love, I swear –

If I had everything in this world, the only thing I’d me missing

Is having your scent to wear

Around my veins and arteries, pulsating,

Spreading your sweet naivety across the room

Slowly detonating

The strings of my heart.

My love, I’m only playing the part.

-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

Notes on a napkin

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How do I let you go?

Have asked myself a hundred times, a thousand times more

Than would be needed – if I had the intention to stop wanting you,

Not longing for you anymore.

I don’t and it drives me insane.

There are these ticks and anxieties I get when you speak,

But I know that the anger will fade

And next morning you’ll still be the thing I seek.

How do I forget how much I love you?

I hate you still about the things you said a week ago

But I can’t wait for you to uncover another cover that I blew.

You sink me just to keep me unharmed – and afloat.

There’s nothing I need more desperately than you by my side when it gets rough.

You’ll never learn about the times you saved me – as it’s not enough.

I feel like I can climb into your mind sometimes and all I find is devotion,

Seasoned heavily by damaged goods, looking for that special potion

That will get your huddled shoulders one more opportunity to be sincere.

You still don’t get it but your shortcomings make people cohere.

Your smile works like poison as it makes me die a little in my sleep –

But that’s another vision I’m not allowed to keep

When I finally wake up and you’re not there.

Were you ever really squeezing my waist, were you really here?

I don’t know anymore, and hopefully – one day I will not care.

You’ll be just a name I don’t want to hear.

So how do I let you go? How do I forget you?

How do I wake up one morning willing to regret you?

Will you leave yourself if I ever let you?

Do I throw a little funeral and see where the wind carries the ashes?

Is it going to be an open road or a city with bright neon flashes?

Do I just sit and watch as the time passes?

How do I let you go?

-JW

The Violet Lotus

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It is another Sunday morning where you sleep in while I watch the news –

Our apartment building is quiet, yet it bubbles as if it never gets the blues.

At 9am you have made my side of bed into your dream sanctuary. I do not notice.

My daydreams are getting harder to bury. The throb in my chest does not let me focus.

It is one more Sunday morning – you sleep in while I am dyeing my hair.

The neighbors have left for the weekend so that is one more glare I can spare.

Before 10am you are building a fort out of pillows. You do not notice.

The nightmare will hit once you open your eyes. They will jump to a note and a violet lotus.

It is the same Sunday morning – you cannot sleep but you stay in bed, silent.

Four white walls you own and nothing else. Blindsided. But never violent.

After 11am Monday morning you enter the office. They do not notice.

Insomnia has taken you under her covers. She lets you be restless while the world feels hopeless. Bogus.

You remember the note by the lotus.

***

“If I ever stop loving you, please don’t wake me up.

It’s been 8 hours since I walked away

And it feels like a cover up.

If you ever stop caring, please don’t let me know.

It’s been 8 minutes since I wanted to return

But time is a one-way flow.

If they ever learn how I broke you, let them eat me alive.

It’s been 8 seconds since I’ve closed that chapter –

And they’ll let you know that I survive only when I connive.

Let them contrive.”

-JW