The time runs by,
And I can hear myself ticking.
It is this broken clock within,
It is this faded clipping
That tells me smudged lies
And calls peace a compromise.
But I am running low in ink,
Graphite will not suffice.
Minutes pass in a blink.
I am losing the disguise,
Crouched over the kitchen sink,
Pulling out my own eyes.
And the time runs by,
I can hear myself clicking.
My hourglass cracks into two,
My memories start slipping.
-JW
You’re sitting on my collarbone,
Dangling your legs over the edge.
Your two little swords pushed into my skin
So you don’t fall off the ledge.
My heart keeps racing for miles
When you electrocute my chest.
My ankles shake and palms tremble.
No rest for the anxious, no rest.
And the brain gets lost in the fog
As you blow sapphire smoke in my skull.
You haven’t left my side for years,
You’ve painted me fragile and dull.
Tell me, when was the last time I slept
Without your tight supervision?
I wonder if you ever get tired
Of turning my body into a prison.
-JW
The oblivion in the corner of my brain seems to grow.
It nags my senses, threatening a row,
Calling my peace a riot –
Despite my soul staying deadly quiet.
So why is it growing, who’s feeding its rhetoric?
These thoughts are so vehement,
They launch at me with grave disgust,
Dusting off all the pain I’ve never discussed.
In the centre of it – there’s you,
Replaced with coordinates and clues.
And I know I must resist this,
Your words are too malicious.
But the oblivion surrounds us
With discomfort and chaos
Until the terror grows larger than we could ever dream.
It shoots back at the universe, beam after beam,
And we’re frozen,
Almost like we’re chosen…
I let the chips fall where they may.
There’s comfort in masterless fate.
I pick up the shards,
I cut you out, pretending it isn’t hard
To admit that we were never in the cards
As my soul watches like a prison guard.
But the oblivion in the corner of my brain seems to go.
It takes your face and all the pain I’ve ever known.
Not for long, no,
I’ll see you next weekend to repeat this show.
-JW
Once the droplets settle on the glass we both know it’s over,
But we still count down the minutes in case this’ll pass
As we grow older.
I draw circles in the humid air, slowly and somewhat patiently.
The leaves keep getting stuck in my frizzy weekend hair,
And then you say to me:
“Maybe something somewhere is better than this crushing feeling.
We’re both so young, yet looking the worse for wear,
We’re wilfully bleeding.”
But I take your words with a grain of salt and an ounce of solace.
It’s difficult to leave when parting ways is no one’s fault –
Yet, this love is lawless.
Once the droplets settle on the grass we both know it’s time,
But we still count down the seconds in case it’ll pass
With the freezing clime.
-JW
Trams pass through me at midnight, they’re all empty and sound,
And I stand on the rails pushing away spiky, grey clouds.
The silence disarms me but the darkness melts like warm butter,
My feet weaken by the second as shame angrily splutters.
The asphalt is the path of the forgotten – yet, my legs get weaker.
It’s a shame, really, I’ve only been running for one weekend,
But my high-flying morals have turned into a deadly splinter
That will kill off all my innocence by the next winter.
The red in my cheeks is crawling up to the whites of my eyes.
Perhaps I rushed when accepting this Trojan horse of a prize –
Even the road less travelled can turn into the bleakest routine
If you’re already a ghostly mist masked as a fine-tuned machine.
But escaping the truth can only get one so far, and I knew it.
I raised the seven headed dragon, then waltzed right through it –
Until it burned me to a crisp while I pretended to be its king…
Now I walk the streets as a wisp of charcoal smoke
With two scarlet scars replacing my rosy wings.
-JW
Trees by my window turn chartreuse, they have lungs to feed and souls to sting.
The birds return home with the highest of winds, bringing the first breath of spring.
My eyes feel like an anchor in this scene, they’re ruining the view with bright red fear.
The blood I shed for vile creatures keeps visiting at night, threatening to disappear.
And I worry – maybe I got out too late to ever pull myself back together again?
Maybe I truly played my last card, ceiled the faith, and lost myself as a friend?
The pound of flesh I offered them for free wasn’t an invitation to rob my skull empty –
But I thought once I left, we would be even, yet, I’m broken and they still have plenty.
So where is the fairness my ego promised? Where are the roaring melodies?
The life spins faster and faster around me but I no longer feel like its centrepiece.
And the trees get greener, the city gets louder, the sunlight numbs me to the bone.
I pray each night to the gods I dethroned
That I still have the spite to never answer the phone.
-JW
The voices get angrier when the big searchlight in the sky goes out.
They try to take me through the paths that gaslight and sow doubt.
I chase the intrusive thoughts away by turning into a bright red blot,
And it is not necessarily a goal of mine but I am shooting my shot.
I crawl on my knees through the darkened streets without any shame.
The sounds echo in my brain without finding a corner to tame.
But the stars above me look like silver clots in a dark despair sea,
The humming of its silky splashes tail my mind in a minor key –
Until there is nothing else, just another rigid body in the water.
Someone will pull me out with a fishing line, call me their daughter.
The cycle repeats, the runaway in me starts loving the searchlights.
Too often the happiest endings never happen
Because of the darkest nights.
-JW
Do you even remember when I caged up your cast iron heart like a bird of prey,
Breaking each promise I made to myself in the most exhilarating way?
And I buried that cage away, under unidentifiable skulls and pale blue plastic,
I dug it so deep that your clear voice turned into some rusty static.
The lucid sunsets I used to watch from my bed turned uninviting and dull.
All the air around me shrunk in size until the atmosphere was a screaming null.
I placed my palms on the marks in my skin you left without thinking twice…
So I hope you remember this time because I’m setting ablaze our splice.
-JW
These walls echo my downfalls but stay deadly silent about the glistening highs.
One could argue I built them for myself, god, don’t re-examine my alibis.
Each morning the dread keeps forgetting itself – and maybe there’s even a chance
For me to escape what I’ve created, lose the lead sprinklers I got for hands.
But I can’t get past the chain link fences, like a spell they push me back inside.
The hellhounds I welcomed in this home know all the escape plans I lazily hide.
The floor spins on its axis, it melts away until there’s nothing for me to land on.
There’s wind on my skin but I can’t see the door, it’s covered by a phantom.
I keep hearing them say – you have to break these abysmal loops on your own,
And, god, I know I’ve built them myself, but would it kill you to pick up the phone?
Even if it’s a beast of my own creation, do I have to break out of its head alone?
Because I swear there’s one unknown lock on my gate,
Cast in envy green stone.
-JW
Muted spring mist wraps around my ankles like poisonous snakes.
I’m bathing in vivid daydreams
But it hisses me wide awake.
I trip on my faint honesty, landing straight on the jagged edges
Of all that I couldn’t leave behind
In hotel rooms and on filthy ledges.
My temper drags me down to the bottom but who can blame it?
If you stain the first November snow,
You might as well paint it.
And you might as well drop the acts you’ve been lugging around.
Get rid of the sentiment,
Leave it at the lost and found.
So I stumble towards the sunlight, getting lighter, floating with my sins.
Some keep pointing out the exits,
No, I can’t take the hints.
I know it’s a race against the clock and I’m here running on empty.
But the snakes can only bite if I whisper:
“Please, help me.”
Therefore I seal my lips and move along stealthy.
-JW
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 