Tag: hopelessness

The Emptiness

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I’m looking for the thing that will make me feel hopeful –

I don’t need a lot, don’t need the social or the noble.

Some thrown out fantasies will keep me grounded

Because nothing satisfies the thirst, it can’t be rounded.

Don’t tell me to pray or to call my ancestors –

I’ve seen enough circus acts where kings play the jesters,

And I don’t get along with anyone who I should prefer

Because spirit lifts higher than blood, mark my words.

“Don’t throw away the guard

For someone you should adore.”

We’re all petty cheaters playing this over and over,

And we don’t get over it because we weren’t offered a shoulder.

Seeing these games rolling doesn’t make me more hopeful

But I’m not looking for locals, for social, for something noble.

I’m seeking that one thing that makes it all make sense

But I’m scared it was always just over the next broken fence,

Something taken away by a coincidence.

-JW

Lighting Flashes

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Steeper by the second, it’s growing steeper.

You’re in pain just to be your brother’s keeper.

Sandcastles built on concrete, I cannot oppose –

You build unstable structures

Always ready to explode,

Always crowded with ghosts.

It’s faster each moment, it’s getting out of hand.

Can you build steady hope out of grains of sand?

The hill has no mercy, we’re both so alike.

I have nothing to say

But they’re attaching the mic.

Lower with time, my spirit is being lowered.

The third pit of hell refused to be overpowered.

My left eye is seeking God, it can’t be right.

Before the lighting flashes

I’m thrown back into the night.

-JW

A Pin Drop

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What do you expect me to say? There’s nothing left.

It’s so quiet you can hear a pin drop, or a heart stop.

All the exits guide to the left.

Was there any fresh love between the two of us anyway?

Maybe we left it to rot for too long and forgot,

And decided to give it another day.

Is there a nice way to say “thank you for letting me down”?

I hope you don’t overreact when I lose my selfless act

And start selling the love in pounds.

Why are you always so quick on your feet to chase self-pity?

The night I went silent the first time, you became the mime

And I ran towards the city.

…I should’ve known when you came back, it felt annoyingly iffy.

Tonight I’m shaking you out in beams like a fever dream.

I’m free and I’m claiming this neon city.

I’m turning my kisses into hickeys.

-JW

Spineless

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Something in my glass tastes like misery and I wonder –

Maybe the green colored glasses have gotten under my skin.

All the lights are emerald, and maybe I’m the one you wanted?

Maybe I’m the missing safety pin?

***

Promises are cheap, betrayal is priceless –

Honey, I’ll never sell the stab wounds in my back.

(Ironic, of course, they came from someone who’s spineless.)

But my love for you was low-cost so I burned the almanac.

-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

Honey Bunnies

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I think of a line or two to write down in my notes all the time, but frankly

It’s never something I want to put down in writing – and you should thank me.

The burning sensation inside is a bit too raw to make poetic or pretty.

You can’t polish a truth into rhymes that sound deep yet witty.

I’ve never worn my heart on my sleeve so they’re right to say I’m heartless –

The girl who changed the game instead of playing cards is just another animal for them to harness.

To you, my friend, this situation might seem harmless –

Until you look inside and see how they’ve made their galleries empty. Artless.

Its people they’ve put on the walls, they’re saying our trauma is entertaining.

Our ideas are called cheap while they never disclose what they’re spending

On drugs and crummy hostel rooms with their Honey Bunnies.

I used to be the last person to kick someone who’s down, now I’ll do it for the money.

Isn’t it funny

How times change and how little left to lose we have these days.

Insanity finds it ways

To take a bite out of everyone who plays.

-JW

Faux Grieving

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When the light has left for the day – and so has reason,

I patch up the cuts in my stomach, clean ichor from last season

Of the witch,

Where I was the last one standing up to them, soaking wet,

With filth under my fingernails. Yet they didn’t see me as a threat.

They read into my words but they misconstrued the meanings.

Dictionaries are useless when it comes to faux grievings

And holding onto to things so tight they pinch your carotid

Until there’s not a single vessel left that’s solid, unrotted.

“Choose your fights carefully,” they say, guns blazing.

The ironies this world can teach deserve a proper razing –

Unless, of course, all things corrupt are also built from good intentions,

Spoiled by too much trust and lack of attention.

Aiming a revolver in the sky is not a choice many get to make

Although we’re told that going our own way is a piece of cake –

Wedding cake, probably, as there isn’t a faker symbol in the business

Of selling out souls for pennies at time, just to end up with a grimace

Full of ghouls and a grimness.

-JW

Kingdom, On Fire

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The castle of tired hope keeps growing

while the kingdom around has fallen.

The black smoke rises and it’s snowing

grey dust. Is it too late to call in?

To call you? And let the silence murmur,

Let the abandoned dreams float ahead….

Damn, this daydream keeps gripping me firmer,

So tight, almost like it wants me dead.

This mirage of beacon is not a lighthouse

I would so desperately need to survive the storm.

But I must suffer to fully espouse,

To wear this blue tattooed body as uniform.

***

The morning will reveal our secret’s with its mist.

If we don’t carry our hopes quicker, our thoughts will twist,

Even the feelings clenched up in our fists.

Didn’t you know already? Not everything dead

is greatly missed.