Tag: original characters

Red Sirens

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The lightbulbs in my palace buzz the name of my betrayer.

I kneeled in front of his tarred lies,

Believed him when he promised to return for me later.

But I stand alone as my silhouette melts away like snow.

I bowed my head in front of his grace.

You know I would sell a soul for a chance to let him go.

The lanterns warming up my cold street scream in agony.

I crawled my palms raw in front of him,

Took the sound of time running out for a symphony.

But now I sit on the freezing rock floor in complete silence.

I laid my life in front of his insecurities.

Still, I would die again at the sound of his red sirens.

-JW

Voiceless

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The voices that haunt me are deliberating in the corner.

I bet by Monday they will have fresh lies to tell me

And a better plan for getting me to the coroner.

My consciousness is floating in boiling charcoal debris.

As the voices sharpen their crooked yellow teeth,

I struggle to say a word, I struggle to breathe.

They approach me with crosses, raining blood on my bed,

And stare in disgust mixed with vain satisfaction

When I silently whisper, “I would rather be dead.”

The voices that haunt me are screaming my every thought.

I bet by Tuesday they will quiet me down

And dance in the ashes of all the fights I have fought.

-JW

Exit Wounds

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I danced with your seven devils last night.

They broke my spirits, they showed me how to fight.

My fists were ready to take down my shame,

But you buried me in it, then buried your own blame.

I ran with your deepest fears last night.

They are a wicked crowd with rotten bodies to hide.

My lashes were ready to dry and evaporate.

You pushed me in harm’s way, you did not hesitate.

I fell with your palaces of lies last night.

They reopened my exit wounds and took a large bite.

My skin was ready to let me bleed out,

So, you broke my neck and left me in the drought.

-JW

The Night

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The night dribbles on my tongue like a bittersweet symphony,

It plays with my senses, it wants the moonlight to sing with me.

I have been counting my blessings and writing down the spooks.

The night watches silently as I burn down my deepest roots.

And I know what they say about people who survive on darkness –

We are the wicked crowd, forgotten by the gods of our fathers.

But the night stares patiently as I wash my scars with bleach.

The shadows form black smoke around each limb that bleeds.

Lately all the lightness has become just too heavy to carry.

I naively wish on a dying star like it does not have bodies to bury.

The night drips down my lips with all its sticky sentiments,

It plays with my mind, trying to find where I lost my innocence.

-JW

Calling Me

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You are calling me from the castle,

Telling me all about the power I will never obtain.

You want to love me, then call it a hassle.

Your kingpin father forbid you to burn his remains.

Every night I peek through your gilded fences,

My curiosity twists around in circles like a snake.

I try on your family’s crooked lenses,

It seems like you live in a truth that I cannot taste.

Your guards call me Alice as they chase me,

But I keep my feet quick and refuse their guilt.

The spinning arrows they shoot erase me.

I wake up from the daydream on my windowsill.

And you are calling me from your castle,

Telling me about the ignorance I cannot obtain.

You want to show me how to reach it faster,

But I digress, there is no joy in your golden pain.

-JW

The Wanderer

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She cursed you to wander the windiest forests for a decade or two.

The shadows turned you into prey, your guilt turned you ocean blue.

And you might have walked the forest alone if you never met me.

I might have even escaped your bear trap if I was not this petty.

They say tragedy imitates action, oh, but I beg to differ, my dearest.

You begged the forest to swallow me whole when I thought I was fearless.

To my surprise, it listened and made me walk the darkness with you.

She cursed you to wander endlessly,

Never knowing that she has cursed two.

-JW

Count To Four

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My shoulders ache from carrying your cross.

I wish the devil bit my tongue when I said –

Honey, I need you the most.

The beaming Sahara sun drains me of hope.

We were young and dripping in red,

Now you are passing me the rope.

All my toes are bleeding on the pavement.

The memory seems to fade,

Then it breaks my neck as a statement.

I cannot recognize my own hands anymore.

They are now made of pure led.

Honey, run before I count to four.

-JW

Note #205

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You watched me falling over the edge,

You watched me disappearing into the dark.

My heart hardened as I crossed the ridge.

Don’t reach out your hands, don’t wait for a spark.

I landed on a lonely rugged surface.

I painted my lavender sky with charcoal and soot.

Your aluminum chains gave me hospice,

But don’t sentence me to another year of rot.

-JW

Towards The Ledge

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The fragility of my fists plays with my own immortality.

My spinning head survives on promised immoralities,

And if I keep up the pace, I will persevere, I will push through.

My tongue is made of fire, my will is made of glue.

No, I do not let ignorant men block my paths.

I am seeking a destiny that outruns reason and fact.

If my feet could keep up, they would take me to the place.

But no one sees it, they offer me to leave with grace.

Still, I have no grace, only sharp corners made of iron.

My lips are light-years ahead when it comes to firing.

I shoot everyone who does not keep the final pledge

While not noticing that I am headed towards the ledge.

-JW

My Curse

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Do you know what my nothingness tastes like?

It pushes my head under water until it is ripe.

The empty feeling cuts off my hair with scissors,

It pulls on my sleeve until I see vivid visions.

Some gray creatures climb in my fragile chest.

The static goes cold, and I leave out all the rest.

Bright red snowflakes land on my lucid irises,

They drip scarlet into my dearest promises.

Can you imagine what my nothingness tastes like?

I keep drowning as they tell me it is alright.

But the complete abandonment never sinks in.

It is my curse, treating my sanity like a sin.

-JW