Will they write your initials on my headstone
or will it be the other way around?
Will they cite me as your cause of death
or will they lay me in the solid ground?
Will the little flowers stay fresh and green
or will they crumble out of pure spite?
The jewels you gave me are worthless.
They turn to ashes when brought into the light.
-Jackie
Blink twice if you think somebody can hear you.
Blink once if your screams are a waste of breath.
They branded me sinister because of your stories,
So you can thank yourself for this sour threat.
-Jackie
The seagulls drop dead on the salty beach,
And waves wash away their sweet expectations.
The fishes float to the surface, dying of thirst,
As I whisper the very last incantation.
It is not a scene, it is not an honest tragedy,
It is a simple sacrifice made by the banished.
Seven hundred creatures will die before me.
No one will stay alive until you finally vanish.
-Jackie
Memories lose their significance almost as quickly as I lose my respect.
Do you even have a lover in your ancient graveyard that you do not regret?
Love letters lose their power, but you lose your glass temper much faster.
Did you crave me like a substance or did you just want to create a disaster?
-Jackie
I have painted thirty-seven walls in echoing curses,
And I watch them judging me, even clutching their purses,
But I was not meant to be covered in round bruises
From the stones that they throw for becoming your muse.
-Jackie
I broke my backbone for you a thousand little times,
I romanticized the story in my lost little mind.
What if I am done with painting you as the protagonist?
Tell me, love, is there a single clue that I might have missed?
-Jackie
I can’t think of a worse destiny than dying in your arms.
Your stare and cold palms would freeze my soul to death.
Perhaps that is why doom runs from me like I bear arms.
It knows my sadness could take away its shallow breath.
-Jackie
The grave diggers are striking
And the priests are protesting in the streets.
This death I drag around like an anchor,
It only laughs when it bleeds.
I did not mean to start this sad cult
And I do not plan to watch it evaporate.
This chaos I hold like a dying wish,
It awaits my empty shell at the pearly gate.
-Jackie
The cards I keep up my sleeve are the four aces,
But being a natural could not save my honest face.
Here I lay, here I lie, here I suffer from exhaustion.
Every fairytale warrants a sheer level of caution.
-Jackie
I wished on a dying star,
Hoped that I could go number.
I exchanged their loves
Liked fading telephone numbers.
The first one was a goner,
The second one was a farce.
They burned me like a witch,
They resurrected my scars.
It was the fairest of games,
And rules did not matter.
The rabbit jumped from a cliff
And so did the Mad Hatter.
I wished on a dying star,
Hoped that I could go number.
I exchanged their loves
Liked fading telephone numbers.
-Jackie
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 