When did you know you’ve lost my pen entirely?
Did the snake hiss gently,
Swallow the tail in its entirety,
Or glance with a thousand mile stare like it’s tired of me?
The tiniest acts of defiance were punished.
Yet, my trust knew no bounds.
I told you how the stories of my other villains got published.
So I have to wonder—is that how you got the idea?
You decorated my walls in white ink,
Pushed aside my hope and will and slipped right in,
And when I told the others, they said—it’s all blank.
I was looking for hints as my soul sank,
But I couldn’t find them.
My tongue froze over like the Inferno, one in a billion chance,
As the diary pages lost saturation.
Death was reaching out its coldest hands…
You set the books in my mind on fire,
The library was gone in a heartbeat.
The firefighters were calling me a liar,
A child looking for a hint of some heat.
Stop!
A pause, a breath, and I’m out of the door.
Not sure who dragged me, but there are only my footprints on the floor.
Each day I dive into the blues,
Each day I become paler and fainter, and more unmoored.
Your grasp on my neck is so tight it almost feels real.
Then, a day comes where I don’t hear you.
I look forward to a meal.
Healing, growing, almost healed.
I stay close, yet never too near.
The axe drops on your neck, at least that’s what they say.
Maybe my lips twisted into a smile, don’t quote me though.
I get another good day.
Then another.
If I stay really silent on starry nights, I can hear you pray,
But you know I won’t answer until you do.
When did you lose me entirely?
Did you think I had it in me to go quietly?
-Jackie
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 