The Foolishness Of Fate

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Someone told me years ago by a sleepy lake:

“You meet the people you are supposed to meet,

A year too early or a year too late,

Still, you feel like you have never seen a smile that sweet.”

But I chased a dream for a living for five years,

Wasted away my youth on cheap truces with the enemy.

I did not hold back a harsh word, but I held back the tears,

Hoping the sorrow did not become a part of me.

All I did was try without batting an eye,

And I did not listen even when the noose was closing.

Fate is a funny thing, I hated the knots it tied,

And how it tore me open like some old clothing.

But I ended up right here, so it must have been foresight,

Even the nights where I got it all wrong.

I was missing the signs and looking for my knights,

Complaining to every stranger about this life being too long.

Still, I ended up by your side nearby a sleepy lake,

And it felt like home more than my own heartbeat does.

Not a minute too soon, not a minute too late…

The foolishness of fate came over me like a buzz.

-Jackie

My Funeral

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They said I was the devil when I showed them my good side,

They spread the rumors like cheap pills, spread them far and wide.

Those who once knew me did not bite down right away,

But the bitterness got to them like smoke from an ashtray.

They even called it my funeral when I tried fixing the record,

They swore they were playing chess when I was playing checkers.

Little did they all know, you cannot re-bury the long gone.

You cannot fix the tune in post if you got all the chords wrong.

So, they said I was a lost cause until I became their peril,

And they learned that there are things far scarier than the devil.

Those who never knew me only spoke my name as a whisper,

And all those who were buried with me became my sisters.

-Jackie

The Anatomy Of Her Downfall

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It is almost like I am watching from the sidelines,

Observing the anatomy of my own downfall.

They throw their coins at me, drown me in dimes,

Put poisoned needles right through my eyeballs.

And I just let them release their putrid anger.

I have run for too long, I have carried this well.

Now the stories of my life will turn into ambers

As my legacy will unleash its holy hell.

-Jackie

For Thee

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The pendant on my neck is too heavy to carry,

It is slowly stealing my shaky breath away.

Its silver holds all the stories I need to bury,

All the overdue debts that I must finally pay.

But the path ahead is muddy so I must hurry.

The wolves are after the scent of the impure.

The setting sun makes my aching eyes worry –

I am running out of light, and there is no cure.

Once seven stars rise, they will kill my story,

Ripping me into simple letters and spaces.

Until that hour comes, I must carry this for thee,

I must carry the cross until I lose my pace.

-Jackie

The Painting

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I swear I’ve seen the painting, he’s Dorian Gray,

But he’s also a menace molded from the cheapest clay.

There’s a splash of light right behind his pupil,

So beautiful it hurts, so bright it can’t be human.

And his hair falls right back into place each morning.

I can’t tell if I’m cursing him or simply adoring.

My head spins in circles as he untwists my tongue

And says a line or two about hoping to stay young.

I swear I’ve seen the painting, he’s Dorian Gray,

But he’s also the green light in Fitzgerald’s play.

Or was it a novel, an opera, a song?

Maybe he’s just a faux narrative we all got wrong?

The taste of deadly nightshade wraps my senses.

He must be an angel with the best kind of defenses.

There’s a splash of pitch black on his roaring chest,

So frighteningly dark my blood becomes blessed.

As I slip away, he looks right through me,

Coldly acting like someone who truly knew me.

I swear I’ve seen the painting, he’s Dorian Gray,

But he’s also a menace molded from the cheapest clay.

-Jackie

Gum

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I keep playing the songs I fell in love with when I was a teen

And spinning to the records I screamed in my early twenties.

Somehow the youth, oh, it never loses its liquid sheen.

Back then the opening track of Melodrama used to be plenty.

The trauma you gather by twenty-five is stickier than gum,

It will ruin your hair and stain your favorite pair of jeans.

What a shame, you only notice when downing cheap rum

As your favorite bands turn out to be a few crooked fiends.

Still, I keep playing the songs like they are a damn eraser,

Like they have the power to hold onto the pieces I lost.

Every memory keeps tasting more and more like a chaser,

And I know that soon enough they will remind me of rust.

-Jackie

The Giver

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I watch drops of blood fall from my nose and land on your white shirt

As we are stuck in a moment, glued to the pavement and grainy dirt.

Every piece of my past I have carried around now slowly slips away,

And I no longer have the memories, just this moment on this very day.

My mind feels like a broken cup, but your face is my final harbor.

We must say our goodbyes tonight, even if it seems like a murder.

Yes, I am torn, and I am bent, and there is nowhere for me to go.

I pray harder than a saint as I watch you leave through the first snow.

The guilt is flowing through the cracks of my skull like a hundred rivers,

And you knew better than anyone that I was a taker, not a giver,

But I promised my pulsating chest to you like it was worth a dime.

Too bad that before you got to accept it, we were torn apart by the times.

There are still my drops of blood on your shirt as the sun is rising,

My nose still hurts from yesterday’s punches as I observe the horizon.

I miss you like an unspoken wish, yet I am light enough to float,

Because I do not seem to feel the claw of the past on my pale throat.

-Jackie

Bonnie Without A Gun

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My trust burned your skin like boiling water,

Still, you took it patiently, you buried my guns.

You followed me to the North Pole and further,

Kept me safe during the coldest months.

Your trust pushed a blade between my ribs,

But somehow that knife stopped me from bleeding.

Do you know what I would be willing to give

To go back to the day your beauty tripped up my breathing?

I was a dying star, yet you glued me together,

You wrapped me in blankets of rosy daydreams.

When the storms struck, we braved the weather,

Turned thunder into the brightest light beams.

But the love fizzled out like a short sparkler,

I learned how to breathe without your eyes in my life.

Even if the nights keep getting darker and darker,

I know I will make it to the other side.

Yet, the well of my sorries is a deep one,

Especially when I must look at your bruises.

But you will find a better Bonnie without a gun,

And find a new lover who never loses.

-Jackie

The Weight Of The Beast

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There is a cursed spirit in your mirror,

And I watch you pet it every night,

Tame it, hope it becomes dearer,

Yet somehow it never steps into the light.

Wicked claws scratch the old church,

But you turn the blindest eye each time.

Lately all your words have this force,

This power to sell me out for a dime.

Dark dust covers you when you sleep.

Still, you ignore it when you wake up.

The evil tongues, they twist and creep,

Stealing my dreams like sips from a cup.

There is a beast inside of your chest,

And it drinks holy water like a true sinner.

You sing it hymns until you confess,

Then let it snack on my flesh for dinner.

-Jackie

Sleepless Nights

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Our windowpane drips slick iron paint,

And it covers the scenery until there is nothing left,

Only the dull reflection, only the pain,

And a few frail thieves accused of petty theft.

There are people outside, but they do not notice,

Even when I knock and beg in agony.

I hear them calling me a damn novice

For letting my windows get covered in debris.

They do not see how the iron is made,

How it leaks from the ceiling whenever I sleep.

But I guess that is just the secret of trade –

Let people drown, then throw them into the deep.

-Jackie