The diary of your latest test object.

What a curse, what a privilege,
Looking through the director’s cuts in my memory,
Playing videos on my phone in an infinite loop
Until I’m sure of your covert treachery.
Context.
Clues.
Abuse.
Proof.
I dig through the pages until my fingers bleed.
Your gags come back to me in waves until I choke,
Spiraling deeper, sinking toward the ocean floor.
They said it was a joke.
The panic attacks,
Sleepless nights,
Nosebleeds,
Fights,
Rashes,
Emotional downfalls,
Mascara dripping off my lashes.
…a JOKE?
My eyes were soulless, my skin bruised and ashen.
My friends told me we could outrun the death wish,
But we don’t talk about the winter of 2024 anymore,
At least not since demise herself told me to perish.
Humor.
Revenge.
Picking sides.
Dead ends.
I’m not sure how I found my way to the lighthouse.
The fog lifted one day, yet I waited for the waves to return.
Waited for your words to serve as the anchor.
Even silence scared me, quiet made my stomach churn.
Nothing.
Peace.
Sunrise.
Sunset.
Routines kept me alive, ink kept me sane.
The grapevine was quiet until a message came through.
A broken sea creature dropped on my doormat,
And I almost stepped on it before realizing it was you.
Obsessed.
Paralyzed.
Greedy.
Antagonized.
I lock the door to keep you out,
Hoping you don’t turn into a sea monster,
But nothing’s promised.
I’ve escaped dozens of nooses,
Even mine,
But yours was the only one that called me alarmist.
Until the day that you rot,
Until my stomach’s in knots,
We will watch each other in perfect symmetry,
Crowds wondering who deserves the penalty.
Keep wondering.
Guess.
I kept the records.
Kept the mess.
Context.
Clues.
Abuse.
Proof.
-Jackie