Tag: horror poetry

All Her Little Horrors

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Faruk Tokluoğlu from Pexels

All her little horrors will eat her soul alive,

All her little fantasies will make her a terrible bride.

Still, she will try to convince them that her hurt is real,

But they will throw her away like a banana peel.

All her little stories will dry out her charms,

All her little narratives will only bring fear and harm.

Yet, she will never listen to their friendly warnings,

She will hiss at every stranger who ever calls her “darling”.

All her little rumors will set her fate on fire,

All her little truths will grow into fake guns for hire.

But she will bleed red until they drain her out,

And only once she passes, they will care about the shouts.

-Jackie

In Vengeance and Bloodlust

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Jaime Reimer from Pexels

Those furious dogs are out there to finally get me,

The dogs are out to finally chase me down.

I would run away if you just let me,

But you chain me up and paint me like a clown.

You run your dirty fingers through my hair,

And I try to escape, but you make me take it.

All those words I said about you not being fair,

They disappear as soon as I just fake it.

Those hungry wolves are coming closer each day,

The wolves are there to eat my lean bones.

I would feed them, I would take them out to play,

But you tie me down, empty and alone.

You only ever see me when the sun dies.

I am noticing that you always look away,

And I wonder if you remember the lullabies

That you sung in a voice of somebody who prays.

Those vengeful gods are after me, and you know it.

No, you cannot make me your saint forever.

Let me fall from grace, yes, let me blow it,

Let me show them that a fiend can be clever.

You put me on a pedestal when I was shunned,

And you hid me even after knowing I was guilty.

But now all the hymns, they have been hummed,

And if you stay behind me, you are twice as filthy.

Because those furious dogs are out there to bite me,

The dogs are out to finally chase me down.

So, I pick up my blades and ask them to fight me

As I slowly turn into a wicked hound.

-Jackie

The Bloody Vail

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Olya Kobruseva from Pexels

They covered all the mirrors in my room,

But I still recall us dancing, looking back at our youth,

A picture crisper than an apple, a bride and a groom

Getting drunk on love and some cheap vermouth.

They opened all the windows in our house,

And I pulled down the curtains, wreaking havoc.

They blew out the candles, buttoned up my blouse,

Sung to me gently as I listened to the traffic.

They put on their finest black gowns.

I tried to convince them – this is not the occasion.

His family drove over from the other town,

And their tears reeked of a ruined vacation.

They stood around me like it was a ritual,

Petting my hair and giving me long gone flowers.

It is funny how some view death as habitual,

“What human creates, the God devours.”

They all looked at him with pity and pain,

Ceremonially cussing out life and its violence.

They did not even notice my bloody vail

Or how his bruised palms made me forever silent.

-Jackie

I Bet

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Anonymous mysterious ghost woman standing in dark forest at night
Photo by Khoa Võ from Pexels

I bet you did not even notice the creeping voice inside of my skull,

The mind control device behind me with its volume set to null.

I bet my eyes looked happy though, and I bet the laughter charmed you.

The emptiness behind my pupils, baby, it would never harm you.

I bet the red tint on my chapped lips seemed just like a high-end gloss,

Not the blood of those we bury six feet under, below the moss.

I bet the papers will turn my story into a movie the very next morning,

The reporters will deny the fact that I was hurt, that I was mourning.

I bet they will involve my family, and they will offer weak apologies,

And within a minute or less they will come up with a faux eulogy.

I bet it will never cross their minds, I bet they will not even bother,

They will bury my dreams and hopes until I am fully smothered.

I bet my death will feel like a victory to their constantly greying bones,

I bet they knew all along that I cursed them

To carry their crosses all alone.

-Jackie

The Follower

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by rikka ameboshi from Pexels

I remember playing my piano a little too loud that gray evening,

And I remember singing along to every song about pain and grieving.

The snowflakes danced into my room with their frozen smirks,

But the cold spared me as the night came to be just like clockwork.

All the candles on the windowsill swayed along to my lyrics.

Still, the stars blinked distantly like some world-renowned cynics.

And I do not remember hearing you enter my tiny apartment,

Looking like imminent death, ready to finish what has been started.

Your boots left wet and guilty footprints on my beige floors,

You smashed the mirror on my closet, the one I have always adored.

I knew that you looked familiar, and god knows – I remembered

Your face popping up everywhere I went since the last December.

The grin and your bloodshot eyes said it all, but I acted confused,

Like I have never noticed you, never heard you calling me a muse.

“Let me amuse you,” you said while approaching me awfully slowly,

Knowing far too well I am the furthest thing from someone holy.

I remember taking the candles to the curtains, lighting them up,

And I remember you protesting, weakly trying to interrupt.

The wind fanned the flames and they roared with unrestrainable force,

But the heat spared me while it made your voice fragile and hoarse.

With smoke in your eyes, you ran right into my fuming trap.

I pushed you right into the fire, and the flames ran in laps.

The yellow, red, and orange consumed you in a matter of moments.

I really wonder if you ever noticed all the bad luck omens.

-Jackie

Last Fall

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Maria Orlova from Pexels

There are whispers under the floorboards if you listen closely.

You can ignore them or drown them out,

They will still give you no sleep.

You notice their eyes peeking out of cracks in the white ceiling,

They burn like charcoal in the dark,

They rob you of warm and fuzzy feelings.

You loved this house once, now you see grey faces in doorways.

Truth be told, you want to leave,

But the ghouls do not give you dog days.

Their lips press against the wallpaper as you close your eyes.

You can ignore them or drown them out,

Still, you are alone and paralyzed.

The fear hangs above your crooked neck like a rusty guillotine.

You avoid the darkest of corners,

Yet you can never ever flee this scene.

This house was your new beginning, it was your ticket out.

Too bad your sins got trapped in the walls

To become your only crowd.

We watch you pack your things, we let you walk these halls.

You are not leaving this place unscathed.

Be brave, this is your last fall.

-JW

The Manor Chose To Keep Its Silence

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Maria Orlova from Pexels

The silence begged me to say by its dim bedside for a moment more.

With its last gurgling breaths, the manor started rotting from the core.

Dirty floors oozed orange and brown puss in the decorated rooms,

The stench was strong enough for the nearby trees to reverse all bloom.

The sounds of the street chimed in like roaring lions looking for prey,

And I could have chosen to fight – but instead I hid my body in the hay.

I watched them devour people, I tasted the blood they volunteered.

The noise grew too loud, so we abandoned those we held dear.

At night I sneaked through the halls, looking for the place silence died.

I thought I remembered the chamber, however, it leaked lullabies.

My thoughts whirled like dust in the wind as I slowly took a step back.

The music came in from every corner, it painted my vision black.

When I finally came to, I could not open my eyes or escape the trap.

My hands were tied behind my back, and a white cat sat in my lap.

Two gargoyles guarded the entrance, stoically holding me hostage.

They knew as well as I did, these captors are cruel to impostors.

For the next five hours I blurred the line between sleep and awareness.

Whenever I woke up, I lost the feeling that I could be fearless.

I heard those villains laughing at me through the chamber walls,

And the sound of their raspy voices made my every emotion small.

When they finally came for me, the manor chose to keep its silence.

It burned down by my side, crumbling under the pressure of tyrants.

They poked out my eyes and cut out my teeth with dull and rusty blades.

As the empty eye sockets leaked crimson, all my fears started to fade.

I dreamed about silence, I prayed for tranquility, just a moment more.

With my last quiet breaths, the sun washed away the horror and gore.

-JW

You

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Elias Tigiser on Pexels

It is not enough for me to only see you wrapped in the shadows.

As the rain falls through the dark, your voice makes me hollow.

It is not enough for me to only chase you in the palest reflections.

As the candlelight bridges rivers, I have so much spare affection.

It is you I want, it is you I chase like a long forgotten lullaby.

As I wrap my hands around their necks, you are my final alibi.

It is clear – even the creases in your dress are flirting with me.

As you walk home each obscure night, I pray for your courtesy.

It is not a secret, you want me to step into the darkness with you.

As the fog clears, your irises are painted in the softest of hues.

It is not enough for me to only see you wrapped in vibrant life.

As the sun hides, I take your limp body back into the deep night.

-JW

Their New House

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Kei Scampa from Pexels

Come in, don’t you hesitate, push over the papers.

The room hasn’t changed since they moved in this April.

Her laptop’s slowly drowning in a red pool.

The dead plants break their necks, dissolving all proof.

Ignore the putrid smell, the windows won’t open.

He nailed them shut as he trapped her like a rodent.

The carpet’s still bruised from the many stab wounds,

And the walls bleed crimson, ready to be in the news.

Come in, don’t hesitate, step over her remains.

It’s been a few months but no one’s noticed a change.

She will slowly rot away until late September.

No one will remember ‘til they hear she’s been dismembered.

And the mail will pile up as the seasons keep changing,

The excuses in their minds will stop rearranging.

So they’ll have to come in and face the truth –

She was always right when she called him a brute.

-JW

The Thirst

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by fotografierende from Pexels

My face grows paler each coming day –

But the bright crimson on my lips remains.

And the bite marks bloom like spring flowers

As you leave me alone in the dark for hours.

No, I do not mind it, leave as you please,

Lock me in your tower ‘til the next Christmas eve.

My skin will grow snowy, my muscles – weak.

My voice will forget which words I can speak.

But the bright crimson on my lips will stay,

Hiding from sunrises and their audacious ways.

And you will come home to see me once more,

Hopeless and fearful, still lacking a cure.

The memories will lose their charming taste,

You will think of death when seeing my face.

But the blood will not stain

As long as you stay.

As long as you carry the thirst too,

You will bow before my pain.

-JW