Don’t leave before breaking the last promise.
I looked at you for peace,
I looked at you for solace,
But you gave the truth away with such ease,
Making me wonder whether you were always this lawless.
Don’t leave before breaking my last bone.
I prayed to gods and fiends,
I prayed that they send you home.
But at the end I was alone in your flooded fields,
Sinking in your blame, choking on the boiling foam,
Out of ammunition and shields.
-JW
Another Saturday morning suffocates me with its glee.
The sheets strangle my sleep,
Begging me to finally break free.
My head aches as I struggle to let light into my home.
Some try to reach me via telephone
But they know I prefer to face this alone.
Sounds fold and unfold, they knock on my bedroom door.
I land on the hardwood floor,
Hoping fate is keeping score.
There must be a way to leave these linen walls behind.
Yet, the meaning is always difficult to find,
Living in the bomb shelter of your mind.
-JW
I scream at the gods, but they laugh as I trip over my two left feet.
No one is as good as me at admitting their own defeat.
Even when I stand up for a second or a moment more,
Fate crushes my modest medallions in the heavy mahogany door.
I swear I once ran ahead of destinies and all the lives to come.
My foolish demeanor turned the milky dreams in plain rum.
The light is temporary, but my soul is a bright red warning.
And if the chaos I rain is not for you, turn away, darling.
-JW
In the dawn your brown eyes seem fleeting and bleak.
I scare myself with the words I speak.
You, only you, deserve the truth more than the others.
For you I betray my oldest friends and closest brothers.
My neck bends the way you breathe.
Still, I refuse to agree when they howl as I speak.
You wrap around me like the greenest vine.
We agreed years ago that for you I will cross the line.
-JW
I stood on the edge of an epiphany,
Trying to choose between a peace of mind
And my own serenity.
But I swore to give it all for my kind,
Swore to swallow the burning jealousy.
I swung my foot over the emptiness.
You told me to hold back.
No, I do not sell my selfishness.
You do not own whatever I lack.
Meet me at the end of this precipice
So we can fall towards the soothing black.
-JW
The night covers my honesty in dim lies.
It is just you and me beneath late October sky.
The moon drips silver in your empty cup.
I reach for the light, but I am out of luck.
And you dance through the grey branches,
Shuffling the particles into avalanches.
It is a perfect storm with us in the middle.
I try to entangle the story
But each part is a new riddle.
-JW
Excuse me as I become a bad example.
They tried to fit me into a mold,
They tried to make me into a sample.
But I questioned everything I was told,
And for that I was called sinister.
The status quo laughed at me,
Tried to heal me with their best ministers.
They turned my name into a legacy.
Accidentally, completely unprovoked
I became the very thing
Most were told to behold.
My weakness became their king.
-JW
My tongue is a tightrope,
It twists when I command it.
My tongue is a rude joke
When words get too stranded.
The teeth serve as a trigger
When other defenses fail.
They leave marks and figures,
Shoot coffins into nails.
And my lips glisten in red,
They quiver when you whisper.
My lips speak with the dead
And make the third sin my sister.
-JW
Take me to through the fields of silver
Where all fates float like rivers.
Take me down the steepest hills
Where they hide away our wills.
Let me risk it, let me be saved
When I take the road less paved.
Let me stand up and let me fall
When my ego grows ten feet tall.
Run me over if I disobey you,
Pull me apart unless I pay you.
Run me like a show, bright and loud.
Call me from the dark to kill the crowd.
-JW
My skin is taking your form.
It adjusts to every edge.
The vessels are blue and scorned,
Feet hanging over the ledge.
What did I expect, truly?
Your words launch like rockets.
And your tongue is unruly,
Asking me to empty the pockets.
But you never seem to mind
When I put my life on the line.
You curse out my breed and kind,
Rotting everything that is ripe.
(Still, I tell them it is fine.)
-JW
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 