social norms – The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright

Intrusions

23. Aug, 202023. Aug, 2020 jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment

Photo by **Elina Krima** from **Pexels**

Mascara running into my dark circles, charcoal.

Under my foggy soul there is an equidistant hole

To a different part of the path I’ve taken in past

Wishing that temporary things were meant to last,

And I was a different person when I promised

To play it safe when times become too honest.

Not a bitter tear of regret running down my cheeks

Because fear is how lion seeks out the hurt and weak.

Who knew I was never broken, it was an illusion –

A million little moments aligned, masked as intrusions.

I’m crying unflattering drops in a loose tank top

Hoping our daughters don’t have to run in a hamster wheel

Of beauty standards that flop

Faster than they can be stopped.

-JW

“Hard To Work With”

5. Jul, 20205. Jul, 2020 jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment

Always threatened to meet my maker if I disobey –

If my smile isn’t wide enough, I have to pay.

If my sleeves are too short, I become the prey.

The world must be someone else’s oyster because to me

It’s another circle in a groundhog day.

Always scared to be left scarred or for the dead –

If I ever talk back, they might crush my head.

If I have some pride, they call me featherbed.

But they can’t stop, I need to be taught a lesson

No matter how much I’ve already bled.

Always scrutinized for not being cautious all the way –

If you get annoyed by my attitude, I don’t get a say.

If you think I’m pretty, I must keep your affection at bay.

And I pray, and I pray, and I pray that there comes a time

Where my experience is not underplayed

So I don’t have to put “hard to work with” on my resume.

-JW

Iron Boots

29. Jun, 202029. Jun, 2020 jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment

Photo by **João Cabral** from **Pexels**

Forceful interrogation tactics greedily pushed on fragile necks.

Overturned rules pawing their ways to palaces built out of gloomy wrecks.

No monster frightening enough to make me look back at the fear.

I’m not putting my head down for you, I’m tired of speeches so insincere.

Pressure me all around the clock, dig me some ditches and holes.

You’re still the one who compensates just to feed the moles.

The water you fed me was poison but why would you bat an eye.

You’d rather ignore the pain you cause and scream at the man in the sky.

I’m tired of seeing your filthy paws reaching for the promised glory.

While you’re building skyscrapers, I’m glad I reached the second storey.

So I’m keeping my head up despite you stepping on it with iron boots,

And if you decide not to shoot, we both might see the day when our spite

Turned damaged flowers into fruits.

-JW

Whatever Rhymes

27. Jun, 202027. Jun, 2020 jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment

Photo by **cmonphotography** from **Pexels**

We’re all raised with these naïve ideas of our identities but we don’t know,

We sing along to whatever rhymes and when it doesn’t, we amplify the audio.

“You’re not the bad day in your story, you’re not even the narrator.

You’re neither the background noise nor the all-knowing, sad traitor.”

This is how we’re guided through earlier years, believing it’s all there is –

Why wouldn’t it be, if it makes so much sense and makes our lives muy feliz?

The faster we grow, the harder it gets to find truth in those poorly written tales,

And with every piece of faith we breathe in, there are seven parts of us that exhale.

“You’re not the worst day in your story, you’re not even the almighty narrator.

You’re neither the background cacophony, don’t be a goddamn traitor!”

The more they repeat, the quicker you reason your way out of their crossroads,

And once the spell’s broken, the princes turn back into the ancient swamp toads.

But don’t be ashamed or worried – we’re all raised on these old world remedies.

We’re safe as long as it seems to a passerby that we’re still on our knees.

-JW

Dusty Gravestones

10. Jun, 202027. Dec, 2020 jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment

Photo by **Lucas Pezeta** from **Pexels**

I’m also refusing your lesson and vivid banner calling me to safety.

No harm done, take it easy, but how do you cope with days so hazy?

Don’t be fooled, no one should come down the path I’m pawing

But of all the souls out there, mine is the least deserving of saving.

When your reputation has nowhere higher to go, please take a seat.

You can’t carry the pain of someone crushed by the fangs of defeat,

You can’t ask a kid to outrun the future that’s barely promised

And I’m not being pessimistic, I’m just asking for you to be honest.

When there’s nothing to teach, how can you reach for the ceiling?

When the world is crumbling in full force, how is it healing –

To mention that there are better days ahead,

And our way is for the dead…

Is it really true that graveyards call us only when the neon needs to be fed?

I don’t think so, however, there is a revolution of hope to be lead.

Let’s promise ourselves another day at a time, despite all that’s been said.

For the pursuit of true empathy, I will be willing to lay my head.

-JW

Phrases

4. Jun, 20204. Jun, 2020 jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment

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“Can you tell me where it hurts and point me to the nearest exit?”

“Resilience is overrated in the promise land of Jokers who flex it

And your bruises are due already, pay up or leave the city.”

“Why bother leading the path if you could just look pretty?”

…

“Stand up and straighten your shoulders, baby, don’t be moody,

You’re not the next Marilyn in a black and white movie.”

“What’s up with the lipstick, don’t you want to go brighter?”

“I’m down for the fright but I’m not a real fighter.”

…

“Put a smile on that face, don’t you dare to make a scene!”

”You can only afford to be either sexy or perfectly lean.”

“What’s up with the jumpers, mate, are you finally expecting?”

“Please don’t drink and drive while you’re also texting.”

I hope you don’t find me writing down your innuendos vexing.

(Stop playing god, your moral’s perplexing.)

-JW

Night Terrors

19. May, 202019. May, 2020 jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment

Photo by **Iván Rivero** from **Pexels**

I saw curious things happening over and over:

Panicky disco stars bursting open the backdoor,

Laying under the covers, miserably needing a shower.

I was tongue tied but Jay kicked them on the floor.

Three women waltzed in, severed head in each hand.

Our sheets soaked in tears of virgins awaiting suicides.

Is this a movie scene? Can I at least pretend?

Suddenly, I was sinking like USS Silversides.

You don’t have to believe me when I tell you this last part

But I swam through the trench for hours, encrypting signs.

Corrupted brain exponentially filling with rage, growing smart…

I vomited numbers yet no one tried to read between the lines.

Then someone opened the blinds.

-JW

Taking Cover

13. May, 202013. May, 2020 jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment

Photo by **Akira Kawamura** on **Pexels**

He first saw you the night you turned nineteen,

Bleach blond fantasies, mind desperate, yet keen.

Outskirts of desert formed your idea of love –

Now you have a pocketful with nowhere to shove.

He seemed to forget all the lessons you taught

And maybe too often he called you a fraud.

The years will fly by, the betrayal – remain.

The time will teach you to breathe but not to refrain.

He now has a mansion and a Las Vegas wife,

The most cheerful things that money can buy.

You can’t help but take it in, moment or more,

Before spiraling, throwing out all you deplore.

…He knew you never stood a chance against a goner,

Too lonely to cry for help, too scared to dishonor.

But you didn’t go back to the deserts he mudded

So maybe, just maybe, you’ve always known that’s it better

To run for cover.

-JW

Tinseltown

16. Apr, 202016. Apr, 2020 jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment

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A-listers with bleached morals and dead eyes –

They munch on diamonds while I’m forced to eat led pies.

Lies. Sabotage. Saying I’m a carbon copy.

The next I know – he wants to make me into a trophy.

Is this the place losers are produced and turned into stars?

The slower they age, the faster they drive their cars.

Fake condolences mixed with beauty tips from the rotten.

Everyone without a dollar to their name trying to get their shot in.

“Hollywood infected your brain,” Marina sang in the rain.

It also spread through the bodies of many, even the sane.

But tinsels don’t cast a reflection in the darkest place.

Fabricated ideals remain untrue, even if manufactured in lace.

–JW