Tag: relationship

History’s Greatest Heartbreaks

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Nothing Ahead from Pexels

Writing letters to the ghost of your face in my window never helped.

My pencil was sharp enough to kill a man

But I stabbed books on the shelves.

I carved harsh words into the rocks hiding at the deep end,

Wishing I could take a jab at you instead,

Just to let go of this empty feeling.

My starving mind exhumed the memories and made me look

As the skeletons of our love faded,

Turned into thieves and crooks.

But maybe evaporation’s more beautiful than combustion,

And not all the history’s greatest heartbreaks

End in a crime of passion.

-JW

The Things You Leave Behind

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Matthew T Rader from Pexels

Wish I could return your plain white T-shirts

To the hell loop where Satan caught three fevers.

The news call my exit a violent seizure

When you’ve barely loved me for two whole seasons.

Letters keep coming so I write off my pity,

Dry my hands in silk dresses from the long lost city.

Your bitter tears echo as my tongue grows slippy.

The diamonds you bought no longer fit me.

And I lock the gates, cover them in barbed wire –

In case I want to flee my soul and retire,

In case I seek out a gun for hire

To kill your belongings in a ceaseless fire.

Doesn’t mean I don’t have the means to do it,

To drown the reminders, all the nights in Munich.

But they won’t imbibe touline or lighter fluid

And I know one day I’ll profoundly rue it,

This abyss of my own wrong doing.

-JW

Blood Moon Rising

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Martin Lopez from Pexels

The red moon is climbing over the abandoned buildings in my backyard,

Spreading its devious glow, smashing all bulbs to dangerous shards.

But when the tranquil starlight touches my empty eye sockets,

Another ambition of mine dies and your greed fills unworthy pockets.

Some black smoke is escaping the nearby chimneys, letting me choke.

“Those city kids get high on fumes,” you always used to joke.

It is quite funny how the smog reminds me of your coldest embraces.

You used to hold me down – one heel on the temple, grin on your two faces.

But they called it a fairytale so I let the carriages run over my feet,

I let the night become my sister and hoped your hate would grow discreet.

The darkness wrapped me like a cloak, suffocated me like boiling syrup.

When I unwrapped all your ingrown chains, they deemed you a cherub.

Still – each time the blood moon rises, I welcome it in my ghost town.

I play with it deceitfully until another naïve morning comes around.

The drops of water hold onto your reflection but I wipe them away.

Sharp edges collect themselves again as my pride gets rebuilt in clay.

-JW

Paper Pedestals

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Lisa Fotios from Pexels

I wonder whether you romanticize your stolen alibis,

Whether you bathe in the made-up truths

Wishing that they could suffice.

The skin you used to put on is lost, it’s now long gone.

Perhaps you only wore it for the show

Or to hide a billion new wrongs.

Still – your voice comes to me in dreams so I never sleep,

It’s one more memory of safer paths

I’m never meant to own or keep.

Have you felt the hurt that I do, even for a brief moment?

If you keep investing in my downfall,

You might as well fully own it.

And if you harvest your betrayals, please pile them up.

Keep sleeping on those paper pedestals,

Keep climbing until you drop.

-JW

Hexes

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Alexander Krivitskiy from Pexels

We’re torn between the lines,

With thorns puncturing our sides.

The past seems to be fading,

Losing lines and losing shading.

With the background disappearing

I forget what I’ve been fearing

And I give into your light,

Shoot right up just like a kite.

But the high is too confusing,

Forcing me to face the music,

Hiding sins in champagne glasses,

Stealing dreams and burning castles.

So my words erase your hexes,

Drown them with the circumflexes.

And I pull away my hands,

Let you sink in your dark chants.

-JW

The Myth Of Forgiveness

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Vlad Chețan from Pexels

Maybe I don’t know how to forgive,

Only how to forget all that I had to give.

And perhaps I wasn’t meant to be here,

Wasn’t meant to boil over or sear.

It must look foolish – how I beat on

After being burned by your pale neon.

Somehow the road ahead still unravels

So I cut my feet open on rough gravel.

It hurts just a little more every day,

The fire I carry keeps falling off the tray.

But I stich the nasty wounds up nicely,

Cut open those who try to defy me.

Even when the cross crushes my back

I carry my anger, keep it intact.

Perhaps a quieter time will come,

I’ll make peace with what I can’t outrun.

But if forgiveness is only a myth,

I’ll be sure to find everyone

Who made me take these hits.

-JW

Heart For Dinner

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Flora Westbrook from Pexels

The tires of your car ruin the perfect peace and radio silence

As you approach with crocodile tears glued to your lids like diamonds.

There’s toxic spite in your back pocket, the antidote’s in my bag.

Your stare can only hurt me that far

With its raging red flags.

Birds are not chirping tonight, no, they’re flying for their lives.

But I always stayed, through all your nosebleeds and nosedives.

Now you thank me one last time by handing me the trigger,

Hoping I have what it takes to resist

Eating your heart for dinner.

The trees lean in and wait for me to make the final decision.

I do not rush, I let my fury pierce the air with marksman’s precision.

My words slide through your stiff chest like some lost shrapnel

As I leave you there imagining

That we never happened.

-JW

Our Clocks

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Kalyn Kostov from Pexels

A week before we met I was writing suicide notes on silver displays.

A week before we met I drifted neck deep into a greyish haze.

But you were unaware when you opened the filthiest of my stiches,

You were inadvertently smoothing out some colossal bugs and glitches.

What began as a joke, ended in you sewing together a hopeless bleeder.

I didn’t know how, I didn’t know why, and you didn’t know it either.

But I plucked the thought of us out of my head without second guessing,

Said I fixed it myself in order to keep my lying bones from confessing.

I fought it hard, yet soon enough – I drank from the gilded chalice.

Your eyes became the rotten green light to my Gatsby’s palace.

And, damn, I loved you. I loved you like I’ll never love another man.

The melody of your laughter composed symphonies in my tired head.

The closer we grew, the quieter the world around our lives became.

Neither one of us seemed to mind if you and I remained the same…

A week after you held me, they exchanged our sky lanterns for rocks.

A week after you held me, they tore us apart for palladium blocks

And they obliterated all our calendars,

All our clocks.

-JW

Self-Destruction

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Cole Keister from Pexels

I thought I could freeze the sadness out of me,

I thought I could caffeinate it out or paint it over with glee.

I wished once I stopped shaking, I’d be free

But no amount of distraction could part the stormy sea.

I left the window open until my skin felt static.

I wished you could guide my senses, fussy and erratic,

And I truly hoped the enormous heavy feeling inside would slip under,

Almost like dying peacefully, almost like beating a thunder.

Just like other memories they’d drift away into a dream,

Yet we’re too gentle to open the void, too gentle to ever grow mean.

So I drift off to sleep in the freezing room one more time.

The night pours saltwater in my aching bruises,

It burns like lime.

-JW

Muted

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Cedric Lim Ah Tock from Pexels

And hell turned on its back and froze over to warn me about these betrayals.

The people you choose to trust might not always be those with good final portrayals.

Demons whispered in my ear but what scared me was – they spoke god’s truth.

I turned all seven locks tightly while weeping, then for a month I went mute.

They knocked on the doors to relieve the pressure, they said they’ll forgive.

How is one owed an apology if they cut me for pleasure, not to outlive?

Making sense of the poorly made spider webs made me never step out of my bed.

The quieter I lied there, the more I noticed that my friendships were poorly fed.

And the walls kept the sense of normalcy while everyone spiraled outside of the truth.

I turned all seven locks tightly while weeping,

I begged my senses to stay numb and mute.

-JW