Tag: mental illness

Drying Out

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Maycon Marmo from Pexels

I squeeze my own purple knees until they’re completely dry,

Pull my hair out in clumps, shout but don’t apologize.

Some beg me to be honest, some overlook the sharpened edges

So they don’t have to talk me down from new ledges.

The tired ones point at me wearily but never in rightful anger.

We all have the fear of being greatly mishandled.

Perhaps if I just stop cutting my brain open for another display,

The voices will pack up and call it a day.

Perhaps if I just cut off my hair, I’ll find the strength to grow up

To stop begging hundreds of strangers, “Please show up.”

I tie and tangle these thoughts, I hide them under the sink.

Revisit only when there’s a fresh scar, salmon pink.

But I don’t let go of my own purple knees until I’m so dry

That a scream sounds like the perfect lullaby.

-JW

Undecided

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Syed Hasan Mehdi from Pexels

It’s just another evening of me burying you in bejewelled falsities,

Dragging you down the rockiest paths, dusting you with faux niceties.

My moods swing and dance violently in circles, just like the Saturn rings,

But you’re patiently collecting my poisonous words even if it stings.

Will you stay when I’m needy, will you stay when I forget myself?

I’ve asked my reflection and she’s undecided, begging me to get help.

Yet you keep holding onto the sails when the winds hit our discounted ship,

When the glass flies all over the room, when the rim cuts your lip.

If my mind’s a cave, it’s the darkest one you’ll ever see in real life.

The rocks pierce your skin, you’ve been used to the impact for some time.

You carry me to the bed each evening despite my brain growling loud –

And it’s just another night of my anxieties losing more ground.

-JW

The Key To LED Is Blue

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Andre Moura from Pexels

The mauve satin sky has fallen upon my borough

Giving all faces the anonymity of a John Doe.

We’re all in veils, we’re balancing on the rim.

We all move in vain, it’s muted, dull and dim.

The light we consume can be bought in store

And houses in my street have the same iron door.

Each night it seems there’s a stranger in my bed.

The illusion of normalcy is messing with my head.

I could swear – the sun’s made from diodes too.

Some keep chanting, “the key to LED is blue.”

Although it seems likely what’s inside remains real

They did replace my roses with stainless steel.

So I try to look closely at jasmines and maples –

The edges are fastened with invisible staples.

Translucent wires keep forcing me to smile

While my throat’s burning with curses and bile.

My pillow’s filled with pages of charred books,

There’s only normalcy, normalcy

Wherever I look.

-JW

Killing Friends

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Deeana Creates from Pexels

The leaves were covered in frozen mist during that October sunrise,

Birds chirped their goodbyes through the glistening clouds

And there was this emptiness the beauty couldn’t suffice.

Chilly tombstones surrounded us both as far as the eye could see.

An unspoken promise and mystery arose in the silence

But your glance twitched in horror, not in glee.

“What does it take to kill a friend?” I wondered to myself mischievously

As the city reminded us of its wandering ways with loud honks,

Taking us out of the delirious sleep.

“You told me to take you away but what’s the catch?” I spoke up.

My sweater wasn’t warm enough to keep the breezes away.

I was too focused to feel hopeful.

Internally you pleaded with your own shame, with your own instincts.

“You can’t outrun me now, it’s painfully obvious,

But your body will try once the adrenaline stings.”

We stood wordlessly for a moment more, then you bolted for the street.

I enjoy a good chase, yet – this was a mediocre one at best.

Every lion has to hunt, every hunter has to eat.

The leaves were covered in frozen red droplets during that October sunrise,

Birds fled for cover towards the stormy autumn clouds

And there was beauty to it no emptiness could replace.

-JW

To Escape The Neon Hourglass

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Nikolai Ulltang from Pexels

My feet are carrying me ahead – through the dense forest, down the hill.

Trees squeezing together tightly to keep me from moving, to keep me still.

I know the night is almost over but the branches refuse to let in the sun –

As long as they convince me that the darkness endures, I believe I am the only one.

There is a gleam in the distance, it spins like a disco ball, it blurs my vision.

My boots sink into the moss as I trip over the shrubs trying to escape this gimmick.

But there is nowhere to go, only this evergreen vault crushing my ribs.

I am crawling and panting, the thought of stopping seems sweeter than figs.

No, there must be a path that leads to the other side, there must be some hope.

The woods chuckle at my silliness as a breeze pushes me on a downward slope.

My nails are bloody, fingers so raw they burn, knuckles whiter than snow.

The tentacles of another violent forest creature drag me towards the neon glow.

I stab with all my anger, I bite and snarl until it drops me in the grass.

“Keep your head down,” I repeat to myself, managing to ignore the hourglass.

With the force of a hurricane I grab my hunting knife and hurry away,

Through leaves, cones and pine needles my legs fight the desire to stay.

Even through my frantic breathing I hear the black abyss collapsing behind me.

I stumble closer to the real light, it is darting towards me, lukewarm and shiny.

The forests fail to claim my body yet another time, but they will return.

One day I might gather the courage to let all the twigs and roots burn –

But not today. If I only sprint faster,

I can take a step closer to the point of no return.

-JW

Death’s Wearing Her Perfume Tonight

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Maria Orlova from Pexels

Balsamic scent floats all over the house, all over the garden,

It dances on the tip of our tongues, it begs for pardon.

It whirls like dust, bright lilac, and it stains our teeth.

Who will be the first to stop drinking it?

Who will realize we are stuck in a heath?

The thick odour keeps attacking the senses in gentle gushes.

Sickly sweet particles contaminate the air and everything it touches.

Our faces are paralyzed, our eyes roll back in the skulls.

Who will be the first to breathe out?

Who will call out death’s tricks and lulls?

It appears there’s no other way out of the swelling fog,

The mist bathes us in sorrow, is this the epilogue?

The fragrant symphony threatens to overpower the sky.

Who will be resilient enough to exile it?

Who will defy another night to stay alive?

-JW

Emptying The Guns

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Anastasia Shuraeva from Pexels

And she painted her rooms black, every edge, every single wall.

The intruders thought she’d gone mad when visiting her that fall.

No one asked out loud though, they let it slide for the sake of it all.

She painted her rooms black, then laid on the floor dressed in white

Just to feel small.

And she cut off her long hair, she shortened her skirts and dresses.

The grass tickled her thumbs when she ran away from all the messes –

No one seemed to notice though, no one ever stopped the presses.

She cut off her hair and sold half of her closet,

She burned up their old addresses.

And she walked for miles gasping every time the glass cut open her skin,

The people throughout the city promised to cut off her fins.

No one said it but the intention was clear – no witch, no sin.

She walked the city, and each blade they pushed in her back

Felt like a tiny pin.

And she carried on, walked even faster, and readied her boats.

The village folks triumphantly whispered, “Witches never float.”

No one screamed in pain, they simply collapsed all at once.

She’s carried this weight for decades,

Let her finally empty the guns.

-JW

The Road

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Dylan Thompson from Pexels

Let’s follow the blood splattered in the glistening snow,

Let’s take the path neither of us ever wanted to go.

The branches shuffle over our heads like playing cards,

The claws of the cold are sharp, they’re pointier than darts.

But the path has no ending and we can’t catch a break.

The air leaving our lungs freezes the nearby lake.

Might as well be an underwater scene or the desert –

We ignore the view when the truth is unpleasant.

The roads will take us home, treat the open wounds,

Get us to the finish line before the bloodhounds

And keep our numb hands clear of all the past misdeeds.

One more step and they will let us live

As long as we bleed.

-JW

The Woods

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Spencer Selover from Pexels

Some days I don’t recognize her silhouette against the horizon.

Her feet run like a river but her mind is a dark moon rising.

Some days she follows me silently, waiting for the right moment,

And I only realize when it’s too late, once my mouth is foaming.

She doesn’t bite, she only chuckles in the foggy street corners.

She spreads the disease by filling my head with ten mourners.

The crows are chasing the sparks of my brain through the park,

I trip and tumble over my own two feet, no clarity in this dark.

Her presence is stronger, she comes closer, it’s a rollercoaster.

My shivering back pressed against a tree, sky picturesque like a poster.

I hold what’s left of my breath, squeeze my lids together tightly.

When I dare to look again, I hear a whisper sliding through the woods:

“Next time don’t fight me.”

-JW

Emptiness 123

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Masha Raymers from Pexels

The iron gates I’ve seen for years turn rose gold.

Dusty streets burn in vivid neon, brutal and bold.

My escape attempts seem more like cries for assistance

Because when I look back, no one tried to give me distance.

The waters surrounding the scene look more frightening.

Calming the world outside is like catching lightning.

And maybe I’ll be able to live with my own reflection

Once the old kings start dying in rapid succession?

With the one I wanted by my side, I’ll take the gamble.

Maybe it’s this city making me dull, making me shamble.

But maybe I’m deciding to live with my pain on display?

I bid my soul to the devil to relieve me of the foul play.

-JW