Breathtaking // Jen

Photo by Belle Co from Pexels

The TV’s too loud and the candles burn too faintly.

I’ll go with you if you’re ready to mouth “just take me”.

Everything’s wrong since I’ve been seeing you less.

I daydream about giving you another shot

In a short, yellow dress.

The palm of my hand rests on your shoulders with ease.

Road passes by as your wild eyes are fixed on my knees.

There’s a secret in the air and I’ve never seen you like this,

And you take one long look at my face

When I lean in for a kiss.

The midnight is lit by thousands of celestial chandeliers.

We walk towards the waves as I wipe away my tears.

I grab your hand with a smile and you hold my neck,

And you don’t let go until you’re convinced that

You’ve taken my breath.

You tie a blanket around my waist with shaking palms.

In your head – a billion excuses chanting: “We meant no harm!”

As my limp body leaves the promenade, you’re pouring sweat.

Then – just silence and the engine of your car

Humming the song of regret.

-JW

Hour X

Photo by Brett Sayles from Pexels

The forest leans on my sprained ankles and rusty knuckles.

The trees breathe my scared heartbeats. I’m another medal

In their belt buckle.

Dark branches hit my scalp and I’m struggling to see,

Each leaf is a mystery man waiting for my red, restless heart

To burst and bleed.

Fog is covering my shoulders like a breath-taking blanket.

Each step on the moss is a step closer to the ceremony

Of my funeral banquet.

There are men screaming from the roots of these trees, they chuckle.

I turn around in time to see the forest forming a circle around me.

They bow as I ruckle.

-JW

N

Photo by Yoss Cinematic from Pexels

You’re an oil painting left in a shed to decompose,

The loneliness eating up the corners, pulling at your clothes.

You’re a sunset too bright to photograph for a fool –

The lizards are taking it in but you’re too precious to ridicule.

Your hair is grayer than foggy graves, flowing aimlessly.

Sentiment is a booked club, when I try to check in – no vacancy.

Your suit fits you well but so does the box cutter…

When you hear my knock, you might want to declutter.

Can you feel me entering, can you hear me tripping on steps?

Are you running or this is one of those mornings

Where you so tragically overslept?

-JW