pretending – The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright

Have bled through the walls of this haunted house I’ve built for myself

While others called me a quitter I stitched it, bookshelf by bookshelf.

It’s a nasty process, crawling through corpses to find yourself –

At one point you stop worrying about the medals and only attack to repel.

Have cried rivers for all the wrong people and killed my darlings in the process,

But no one told me it’s wrong – they only asked me to hide and oppress.

So I learned from my sins. I built a fence around the house so I can care less.

Took me two years to figure out that you only gain deeds if you aggress.

Have spat into the eyes of gods when they asked me to die, this I don’t regret.

Sure, not that happy about living another day, but I hate losing a bet,

Especially the one my bloodline put on my head, framed my photo in vignette.

The fact that I made it out in one piece, in cold sweat,

Always seemed to make them upset.

-JW

Cheers to all the concrete walls, to back allies, to crossroads and canyons,

To all the secrets they keep and how they treat daylight like their

dying companions.

To the irreversible and unimaginable, to every beginning of bitter end,

I would promise that it gets easier, but my mind’s broken and body too

so I won’t pretend.

To every inch of floor you’ve cried on or spilled some champagne on in weekends

Because you’re so tired of the rut you’re stuck in, and I’m stuck in the middle –

with you, till the world ends.

Here’s to the people that won’t call back, and the ones who text too much,

I’ve never appreciated modern art but I will admit – 21^st century communication

needs artistic touch.

And to the black abyss, darkest pits, death valleys with all the crows in sight.

To the moments where the only way out is through a window pane or screen –

No fight or flight.

To the smoothest chats and pleasant small talks about weather in shitty apartment

Where the peaks mask as fate, then you become obsessed – the end of night

Will taste disheartened.

Please pick up your highball, get the courage to drink to another lonely evening –

Or is it a lovely evening? I don’t want to get demeaning

But when the ego snaps, it’s never even.

So tell me again – what is it you’re deceiving?

Tag: pretending