Tag: Jackie’s diaries

Unconscious / Her

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She said I should meet her at 5 AM by the rugged graveyard.

I know she wouldn’t beg for forgiveness,

Apologies never got her far.

I’ve tried compromising one too many times,

And as devil is my witness –

Her face is a vivid red light,

It’s screaming “survival of the fittest”.

I know I shouldn’t have crossed that line,

Shouldn’t have sworn on my life.

But her caramel locks sprinkled on my chest erased it all –

The wicked brawls and the insults,

Her shaky voice after robbing another mall

As she phoned me to consult

Or to get out of another fight she started.

Her face looked grim but jokes still tasted lighthearted.

Her lips reeked of whiskey

But it was always her smile that got me drunk.

I faded into droplets for her until everything was misty,

Until she shot silver arrows with her tongue,

Swearing she would never miss me…

And then I wake up with her warm palm on my forehead,

Five years have flown by but it’s still the same smile,

Too damn gorgeous, a hothead turned horrid.

Yet, she would still drive miles to save my life.

Hence, pardon me if my thoughts run all florid.

She’s anything but rife.

-JW

In The Getaway Car: Part II

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I navigate between empty lanes, absorbing the adrenaline.

Every noise is a threat, every crooked sign lies.

All the smiles of passersby deceive with their benevolence.

The scarlet car roars as I rush through the deserted mountains.

But the evening sun rises, it drains my guilty eyes,

They leak like long abandoned fountains.

The inky mascara mixes with my miserable pity and it burns.

No strength left to escape, no energy to stop the cries.

My stomach and eyelids convulse, each taking turns.

A gentle light in the distance pulls me out of the panic.

It shakes and it dances, mimicking the stars in the night sky.

And my limbs move, they’re almost mechanic.

This might be the limbo – but I’ll take anything a little less tragic.

As I pull over, the door of a mahogany house nearby swings open.

She smirks, lips playfully parted.

My downfall, my last omen.

“It’s been a while since I’ve messed with magic,

But, love, I’ve never seen a soul more disheartened.”

I collapse by the entrance, all goes black, then turns blue again.

Yet, I manage a grin,

Knowing that I’ve found a fellow sinner in a friend.

-JW

A Lone Bar

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The neon shines in distorted agony

As I exhaustedly enter a lone bar,

Right by the dusty road of vanity,

Over the state lines – but not too far.

They smell my boiling blood,

I know it a bit too well.

My car’s covered in rusty mud –

And if that’s not a telltale…

The whiskey neat I ordered

Tastes just like yesterday’s regret.

I’m a scumbag, I’m a hoarder

Of the terrors they’ll never forget.

They won’t let go of it either –

No matter what excuses I bring to the table.

The blades they carry have one desire –

To slay me like Cain slayed Able.

The dirt on my snow white fingers

Screams that I’m no angel.

The sins choke and they linger,

But don’t be scared, handsome stranger.

Are you the one to take me away,

Are you the one to follow?

In some places I might be the prey,

Here I might be your gallows.

***

I sneak out as the sunrise comes knocking

Like a gunshot in the distance.

I throw away my ripped stockings

And get back on the road to seek assistance.

-JW

In The Getaway Car

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The miles run by, I don’t notice, I don’t mind.

The desert sky grows darker, the road grows unkind.

It splashes me with memories like freezing cold water,

Flashback after flashback, blotter upon blotter.

The adrenaline is leaving my chest and I’m shaking,

Wondering whether I’m a prey of my own making.

Did his wife remember my car parked on their street?

When did they notice the blood on the sheets?

I know they’ll never find him but will it be enough?

Will I survive all the car chases and petty bluff?

And the desert roads answer what I’ve long feared:

“Objects in mirror are closer than they appear.”

-JW

Betray Me Once

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Dug a hole in the ground for my baby.

“Betray me once and we’re in the clear,

Shoot me trice and you can no longer blame me.”

Your emerald eyes turn moldy in fear.

Or is it the decomposition?

Difficult to tell when the end’s so near,

Difficult to let go of the friction.

The lonely road nearby watches in silence,

My only co-conspirator in these times,

The only safe bet through this sea of violence.

My father told me to never speak of my crimes.

But I differ, I’m singing this one like a ballad

And selling my soul for six dimes.

So, I’m off to the next town as you grow pallid.

You’ll be cold and forgotten before I cross the state lines.

And they were right to warn you about the pretty lady,

You never should’ve started the strife.

Dug a hole in the ground for my baby.

“Betray me first and I’ll lower the knife,

Cut me trice and you’ll never play me again,

You’ll be done with your life.”

-JW

The House Needs To Feed

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Three days in a row I’ve seen you hiding by the forest line.

The rain’s soaking your dirty hair but I let you take your time.

Your face is vaguely familiar yet the name escapes my mind,

And uneasy feeling sits in my stomach like rocks,

It twists and it grinds.

So I stay up all night watching your movements from the attic.

You can’t find a way in and I smile as your behaviour turns erratic.

But then you notice the basement window, it’s slightly open.

You dive right through with a grin on your lips,

Taking the trap for a token.

The red floor creeks gently under your worn out sneakers.

You must’ve woken her up, she’s quite a light sleeper.

So I wonder – what did you notice first, was it the smell?

Was it the glowing eye or another dead creeper?

It’s hard to guess from your yells…

Go ahead and keep that secret all to yourself.

Three days in a row I’ve heard you screaming for help.

The rain’s leaking into the basement, mixing with gore.

This house feeds on souls,

I hope you don’t mind that I volunteered yours.

-JW

Last Day In Hell

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Hopefully, you’re aware of why I’m writing this down –

You must’ve heard by now why I left the town

And sold your paper crown for pennies to your rivals.

I’ve almost left a dozen times but this time it feels final.

Take your plastic jewellery, don’t engrave it with “sorry”s.

You asked me to take this to my grave

But I tattooed all the ghost stories on my sleeve.

My skin burns in red neon when I sleep.

I wonder if you noticed as I burned out for you on display.

Now I can only pray that you remember this day

As I shoot by the state lines without saying farewell.

Six months ago I almost buried my pen

But this is my last day in hell.

Take care of those who outlive my patience.

Hope they find the spite to outrun your basements

And the tinted shadows you cast that can’t be washed away.

It’s your dark abyss now,

Don’t get too high on the power you dismay.

-JW

The Flowers

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I plant dead flowers, they’re the only friends I keep.

Plastic roses laugh at me while I struggle to sleep.

My nightmares revolve around the land you created,

Completely controlled, with all my demons animated.

There’s no distinction between your time and mine,

All the minutes spent worrying, reading between the lines.

A car almost ran me over on my way back to you.

The only thing I thought of was your grin turning blue

As the news broke of me being another statistic.

You probably would solve it well, approach it all holistic,

And you would’ve replaced me a week after the tragedy.

The fact that you had to wait at all was a travesty.

I know I should hate the thought of my profitability

But my own head is lacking the basic civility –

So I bend for every wind or fire you put me through.

The reality calls me but you hide all its clues.

And I water dead flowers, that’s all I’ve ever known.

You sought out my vulnerabilities and took out a loan

Against the life that I’ve lead, everything that it’s worth –

Promised to pay the highest bidder, sold me to The North.

Despite my best judgement, I grew awfully meek.

You confused my tiredness with a character that’s weak.

One day I’ll sign off with a blood promise to never tell.

One day you’ll sign off on my last day in hell.

-JW

The Silver Glow

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Let it go to voicemail, just let me go home.

I will break at the next ring of a telephone.

But you’re keen to get it your way, I must admit –

Somehow your gaze feels worse than a hit.

The walls stare back and their silence reminds me

How I’m nothing without your claws behind me.

The rain plays with the backbone I once owned,

I lost it to your hexes, intoned and cold.

Now it sits by the window you refuse to unlock

And the phones keep ringing me out of luck.

“Am I trapped? Or am I just overreacting?”

My voice sounds brave but it’s clearly cracking.

And my judgement may be lacking, that I know,

But the only light I see is the silver glow

Coming from another screen that you gave me

As a weak attempt to finally “save me”.

But your hospitality still tastes hostile,

A wicked circle of control, then a white lie.

So let it go to voicemail, just let me go home.

I will break the next ringing telephone.

-JW

Stick To The Agreement

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Drink up on my silence while I still honor that treaty.

My words will gnaw at you

Until they will eat me.

But I will drag you down too

By your silky lapel,

Repeating simple phrases and lies you used to tell.

My sleep schedule remains in shackles and ruins

As I walk the streets

So inevitably human.

But you are unfazed by the beds you leave empty –

I wonder if it ever gets cold

In your land of plenty.

The curiosity is tickling my tongue with feathers,

And it gets way too chatty

In this awful weather.

You know what happens next in stories like ours,

You time your apologies

But miss by hours.

Once I part my lips, the temperature will plummet.

Maybe you will be home

Or at the highest of summits.

Perhaps you will call me to sit at your table

As I spill all the words

With speakers enabled.

But until that moment

Stay in your seat.

I will not be your atonement

If you simply stick to what was agreed.

-JW