Tag: Other

Note #210

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The pain only lasted for a moment or two.

I put myself together with stiches dipped in glue.

My palms grew selfish, my skin grew slicker,

I covered the scars in bright blue stickers.

And some wanted to soothe my brittle bones –

But I do not deal in misery, I suppose.

So, I burned all the gifts they graciously brought me,

Perished the lies they branded “true stories”.

The ache lived through me, it laid roots like a tree,

You wanted to drown my sorrows in the sea.

Yet, the beacon guided you away from the bay.

But do not worry,

The pain only lasted for a day.

-JW

Safer

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Being safe in your own mind for the first time is an unsung feeling.

No buzz, no synthetic static,

No yellow brick road and no ceiling.

The rays hug my shoulders with their golden promise and peace.

And the silver bullets I carry soften

As I fall to my knees.

My scalp shrivels once the pressure shoots out of my crooked spine.

The anger detonates within,

My pride gains an appetite.

The unforgiving lust for darkness gets lost under the summer sun,

And the search for the end stops

As I lower my guns.

-JW

Anxious

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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 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

Whisper The Name

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My tongue gets sour and bitter, it dreams up revenge fantasies.

A while back I hired it a babysitter

But it still screams out violent prophecies.

They try to bite me with their fangs, strip me of the power,

Acting as the god almighty

While I recklessly destroy and devour.

And I know they refuse to be scared of my baby pink guts.

But my blade, it makes moves.

It doesn’t stop until someone else rots.

My teeth get blacker with each hex that I spew at their swords.

But they’ve brought their hijackers,

They take over my thoughts and words.

Although I know it’s too late, my tongue sharpens its knives

Ready to unleash all the hate

Right back at their crooked hives.

So the bitterness slips away, I trip on its tails while it passes,

And I’m fit to fight again

Until they whisper my name in history classes.

-JW

The False Savior

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I sell and barter my last faith away

But I can’t be bothered

To save some for a rainy day.

In my view, it’s been pouring rain,

It’s been like this for ages, really.

So don’t turn my pages,

Don’t remove the flooring and pain.

And ask – who are you saving here?

My faith or your craving

To be close when I disappear?

But I’m steady where I stand.

Be ready to fight

If you ever dare to give me a command.

-JW

Humor Me

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What’s left out there to inspire me anymore?

My mind’s dry sense of humor

Feels like a foot in the coffin door.

So I’m just wondering – what are we aiming for

By blundering in thunder

With heels achy and soar.

It almost seems like I’ve lost all the passion,

Left it out for the fiends

To steal, abuse and just cash in.

My thoughts are sometimes the worst distraction,

They’re coded in Morse,

Only encrypted in small fractions.

The brain struggles to put a single sentence together

Until I’m all out of moral debts,

No ties left to severe.

So what’s really inspiring me in this icy weather?

The creativity’s refusing to humor me,

Each new day lasts forever.

-JW

Note #816

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I’ve drafted way too many goodbye notes to let you finish a single one.

I’ve shot myself too many times to ever trust you with a barrel of the gun.

Call out my double standards and swear that you’ll never speak to me,

Comfort your vividly green envy but let my wide eyes be your prophecy –

Don’t you ever follow me, don’t you ever step a foot in my direction.

Trust the gut that’s pulling you away from the path of polished affection.

The little perfections will turn into an avalanche that buries the strongest.

One day the immaculate snow won’t melt away until the middle of August.

Take my advice as a warning but don’t carry it home like a gilded shield.

You can’t learn a lesson worth your while if your lips are spitefully ceiled.

But I’ve drafted too many farewell addresses to give you any ink for free.

Put my silly words in a backpack, waste them over another nosebleed

Until you find your true creed.

-JW

The Haunting

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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

Note #914

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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