Near

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We saw each other after months of mourning and poorly hidden pain.

It was never the same but it tasted even better out there in the rain.

You’re the addiction I can’t get over, and I’m making you obsessed.

Perhaps this path we’re going down is only a way we confess?

I don’t mind being honest around you but the parties involved don’t agree.

The distress I hid to make them like you is a treason in first degree.

And I still want you so tear me apart with all the dull insults and fear.

They reach for me and they beg me to stop,

But I don’t hear when you’re near.

-JW

Future Regret

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He takes a step closer and puts his arm on my waist.

“All the time I’ve spent with you is truly a waste.”

He wraps around my thighs unleashing butterflies.

“Each time I sink into your eyes, another dream dies.”

He presses his nails into my chest and I must confess.

“I was forced into this narrative, don’t yell or call the press.”

He takes a step back and I fall on my knees, out of breath.

“All this time I thought it was love,

Turns out it was future regret.”

-JW

The 4th Stage

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The door is too far for me to reach.

“Please come and save me,

Please, baby, preach.”

The bed is too warm, it burns like hell.

The head is so heavy,

It’s empty as well.

And I want to crumble in your arms

But the verdict’s in –

You can only do harm.

My left shoulder’s numb under the weight.

… So I can’t move on.

I have to lie in wait.

My eyes watch the time slowly pass.

I imagine you next to me,

Barefoot on grass.

But the door is too far for me to reach.

“Please come and save me,

Please, baby, preach.”

-JW

Blueish

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You’re there when I look at silver cars and bright ads

Covering the walls as I walk home missing you

And it makes me mad.

You’re there when strangers walk behind me in the dark –

Their shadow blends with mine but it fades

And I curse out this farce.

You’re there when I cry on the floor in my kitchen

As the cold seeps through my blueish skin

And I wish these words were never written.

You’re still there when I glance at empty windows.

They reflect my fragile frame, and it’s clear –

The hunger is once again taking me wherever the wind blows.

-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

Alone

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Your clothes reek of angst whenever I touch your insecurities.

The flames fly out of your eyes faster than I can claim impunity.

I joke about cutting you open but you laugh and suck me dry.

I’d let you put a noose around my neck like a high-end tie.

But we trust each other long after the waiters and guests have left.

You scream all morning, I don’t recall the last time I ate or slept.

The bridge of your nose turns crooked when you raise the tone.

We take a swing at each other.

We’re close together. We’re so alone.

-JW

Learning

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I’ve known you since the dawn of time, I’ve known you since beginning.

The layers I take off of you leave my heart open, grinning.

But then you build another one so I keep pulling, spinning.

I’ve known you since the dawn of time, I’ve known you since beginning.

Your eyes are harsh when I am sweet, they’re harsher when I’m happy

But I’d do anything for you, burn bridges and scratch taxis.

The harder your faint shell becomes, the more I call you bratty.

Your eyes are harsh when I am sweet, they’re harsher when I’m happy.

-JW

The Hunt Begins

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Flying down a flight of stairs towards an icy concrete floor.

The author of this storyline feeds on my screams, she wants to hear more.

I break through chalices and chandeliers, the sharp corners leave a mark.

“Honey, watch out for the twists, you might get bitten and it might get dark.”

I’m getting thrown through an open window, tearing up blue curtains.

The pen on the paper trembles. She’s willing to wing it but is she certain?

A dark figure approaches the horizon, handsome and charmingly mean.

“Be still, my heart, be still,” I whisper.

He’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen.

-JW

Downwards

Rolling down a stainless steel mountain made of doubt.

Connection’s kicking in, I’m changing wheels and routes.

Wavy hair falling in my distorted vision, hiding the focus.

Black satin dresses tangled around my ankles.

Each step I take is a bonus.

I might get killed or even buried alive by the author –

These fictional scenes are written to keep me bothered

But my senses keep getting butchered and gutted in the making.

The engine keeps pulsating while I try to escape,

Thoughts and heart racing.

Sunrise is kicking in over the frozen fields like a curse.

If I don’t make it, I hope they ordered a red-coloured hearse.

The faster I go, the more miserable these glass shoes make me feel.

Dragging against the ice and the petrified grass,

Rolling down a mountain of stainless steel.

-JW

Seven / Intruder

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I must have the seven arcs in a story,

Must have a seven step program to glory.

There are seven pages and seven scripts,

Seven ways to pull the same old trick.

Seventeen stooges with velvet guns,

Burning barrels of Seagrams 7 for fun.

The seventh son was the last to survive –

His mother was twenty seven

When she fell on a knife.

Seven hundred soldiers dying in heat.

Vultures watching hungered by the defeat.

Crashing into a wall with a grey 7-seater.

A seven part plan to kill and elect

The new world leader.

-JW