Empty mailboxes and coffee stands,
Time dripping like sheen grains of sand.
My face is a mirror to your illusion,
My face is a mirror to your grand confusion.
Silky dresses and muted city skylines,
Breath leaking out after lost hindsights.
I assume your beauty is here to stay,
I assume your beauty puts me on display.
Harsh words and unwritten sentiments,
Broken hopes leaking from overused pens.
Your eyes poke my brain until it’s bleeding,
Your eyes suck the ink dry every evening.
-JW
The sparks dance around in your gaze,
Spin through the candle light in all their grace,
And for a moment it’s easy to imagine –
Our souls are something more than voids
Labelled “extremely fragile”.
The lanterns rain down in warm flakes,
Painting the night and its seven remakes.
Whenever you part your lips to speak,
Your voice drips like melted wax,
Deep, enticing and sleek.
The fire inside purifies my misdeeds,
Untangles the stories with missed leads.
A minute more and I’ll be weightless –
Ready to fall without second guessing
Into your oasis.
-JW
Fill my cup with the strongest of drinks, make me feel less lonely.
These four walls tighten around my neck but they can’t really hold me.
Let my fantasy run miles, please don’t let it grow too phony.
When it’s too tired to carry on, I’ll live on pain and no sleep. You know me.
Paint my wrists in the brightest colors, cover all the mistakes.
I can’t erase what has been done, I can’t process my past in hot takes.
Slice my arguments ever so gently – the slower you go, the better it tastes.
Cut right through my throat when you get the chance. Don’t hit the brakes.
Never hit the brakes.
Take all my lies and run with them, pretend I’m not bluffing.
It might feel wrong but by now you must be used to handcuffing.
Breathe my deadly fumes in deeply, reduce your life to nothing.
These four walls tighten around my neck, yet it’s the reality that keeps cutting.
Please… keep me company while the gates are shutting.
-JW
I once had a dream where you picked up the signs,
The good, bad and human. The scratches and lines.
The backlash was making my vision blurry –
You never picked up on that, you packed in a hurry.
“Be my love, my northern lights and south pole,”
I spilled without thinking. Words swallowed me whole.
One look over the shoulder and out the door you go.
The room was spinning in light speed, sinking down and low.
Where did you buy the guts to walk away into the thunder?
We were so happy together, except for that one blunder.
Jack White was playing over our tragedy when the alarm went off.
I wake up alone between piles of white sheets with a bottle of Molotov.
The ringing in my ears has passed but my tongue is still dreaming
About your venomous blood, and how I cut it out of you when you’re leaving.
Piece by piece I drink it up from the pale, cold floor. Revenge is pleasantly bitter.
I open my eyes and shake off the nightmare as birds by my window playfully chitter.
-JW
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 