Remember the money on the table, the bloody coins?
I didn’t touch it. Didn’t read the red talking points.
You stared in disbelief, as if I’ve cut you open for good.
You bit down on my fingers for pleasure
Just because you could.
Remember the jam-packed streets and our rendezvous?
It wasn’t a fortuity that I left the room raging blue.
The damage was limited but scarring was there to stay.
“No excuses for you to be insufferable again.
If you weep, I don’t pay.”
And once again – I stay.
-JW
Where I’m from sorrow is taken as a precautionary pill,
It’s overused to create some sound while the world stays perfectly still.
Where I’m from street names are whispered, never yelled.
The babies are washed in acid and bleach, their shoulders are never held.
Where I’m from fluorescent lights have been forbidden for years
So gather your things – let’s walk to the neon sparks with all of our peers.
Where I’m from laws are not about restoring justice or peace –
They simply drip ink until the culprit is caught so it puts villagers at ease.
Where I’m from blackmail is applied evenly on every soul
But only the ones who run so fast their heels turn red make it out whole.
-JW
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 