Tag: toxic relationship

Peter Pan

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Do not put this on your shoulders, darling,

I will carry all the love until our parting.

No need to compromise, hold your truth,

Be it vitriolic, be it unequivocally rude.

I can break my morals and step on them, too.

Afterall, I gave my blood to paint you blue.

Do not lift a finger, love, do not suffer.

My arms will persist, they will grow tougher.

I am willing to drain a river with my heat,

You will not notice as I slip underneath.

The water will carry me back to the day

I betrayed everyone to make you stay.

But do not put this on your shoulders, dear.

Women like me are meant to disappear.

No need to apologize, not that you can.

Keep levitating aimlessly like Peter Pan.

-JW

Purposeful Violence

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My friends heard you know how frisky I get when I stand by a man like you.

There you are, punching holes in my paper walls after learning that we’re through.

No call backs though, no carton airplanes flying off this cliff I’ve put you on.

Six long months of miseries and resolving your twisted mind – do you even know

How much it hurts? I bet you don’t.

Never have I admitted to liking this game you’re lobbying but I read the rules –

A punch to the gut is a sign of love, a stab in the back is love times two.

Some days I wonder how I got that far, tearing myself up for a taste of passion –

The closest feeling to being cut in pieces with a hot knife and distributed

To everyone I hate in rations.

“Never trust a perfect person,” they say, but then ask you to stop being picky.

Apparently romance is only great if the ice is thin and each step is tricky.

Let’s be truthful – it’s all about how it seems, not how it feels, haven’t you noticed?

The worse your mental state gets with each fight, the more they cheer your passion

And give violence a purpose.

-JW

A Single Round

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They kept asking me to apologize for the pain that they inflicted,

My back against the floor and my palms still only half infected.

The concrete pushing against my shoulders as I sit on the ground.

“Agreed. Take your shots at me but you each get a single round.”

Their terms of service didn’t understand the notion to simply fire

But I obsess over little things and small people no one admires

So I took their ignorance guns right to my ears, right to my heart.

The empty bullets stuck to my skin and punctured it like a dart.

They begged me to say I’m sorry for shooting myself with sorrow

When I was the one in the corner, still willing to face tomorrow.

The trauma keeps crushing my temples as I sit on the ground.

“Agreed. Shoot your bullets again but you each get a single round.”

-JW

Blood Is (Not) Thicker

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As cold as these memories are, I’ll try torching them nonetheless.

The rose tattoo on my shoulder is freezing, the shakes are becoming effortless.

The marrow in the bones is long gone, my hunger doesn’t stand a chance.

And I’m sorry that I’m so damn spoiled – I tried to warn you in advance.

I see troops marching with the machines, gathering their accolades.

My tongue – twisting in an endless loop, seeking words to dull the blades.

It is never easy to lose the one you looked for to a petty act of vengeance.

Why in our twenties we’re acting like we owe respect to ancestors

And also – descendants?

It’s good to have pride but how much honor can each generation carry?

Every step hurts the parents, every misstep – kids; cheeks burning redder than sweetest cherries.

As scary as it is to leave the past behind and future ahead, I will take my chances.

Surviving from second to second, trusting my mind, not my blood-addicted senses.

-JW

Fox Force Five

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“No such thing as stainless dreams, why are you so hopeful?

Do you think art matters, do you think you’ll be a mogul?”

I take the words in as a slap.

He turns his back.

***

Save a rainy day for me like a silent film that I will skip –

Once I’m done with hoping it’ll be your crocodile tears I sip.

Of course, I’m just messing around, sharing my lucid nightmares,

Don’t take anything I put out there as a reason to feed your fears.

The lounge music is digging up curses thrown my way

But please, don’t you mind. When it comes to you, I only pray:

For your business to keep booming when I’m in distress,

For the child to arrive safely when it’s birthed by another mistress.

I budge and let you kneel when you prey your way back.

Hope you know it’s mercy, compassion and forgiveness I lack.

-JW

Butchered

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The thief inside of me has fallen for the undercover cop.

Each time I reach for the ledge I feel my stomach drop.

Now I question your intentions, were they withered all along?

If I only knew earlier – too many rights make a wrong.

It seems like you’ve thrown out my voice for the people to rip apart.

The brown eyes to kill for have turned my story foggy

And taken a butcher knife to the heart.

-JW

Taking Cover

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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

The Cage

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You might be infected with your prejudices and I don’t have the cure.

Every day it’s a back and forth between me being aloof and you being insecure.

Holding up the frozen front takes too much effort to manage as a hobby,

And you will never hear this poem, but without me you would still need to lobby.

Being accepted is a necessity for most – for you it’s a desperate need.

The loyalty train missed your station, but we were young, dancing to “Dying Breed”.

We were losing control to chilly evenings, promising what we didn’t understand,

And I still recall the look on your face when I was holding somebody else’s hand.

The moon ran smoky pictures of our better days by my empty stare…

If your prejudices cost a thing, every single soul in your path would be a millionaire.

-JW

Fine

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Picking up the pieces after I exploded with rage wasn’t the hardest part.

It was more difficult to promise I’ll love you till death do us part.

I wouldn’t promise my endless, undying devotion to anyone, rest assured,

But you bent my neck so sharply I couldn’t breathe, and I felt cured.

Sewing my severed pieces together from scratch wasn’t annoying.

Boys will be boys; and it happened to be me, entering in the midst of them toying.

I wouldn’t forgive the scars on my pale, cold skin, yet I would forgive you –

It just seems better when he’s the one who harms, and also the one you screw.

Stitching my freshly spilled brain together from the bathroom walls is fine.

How come he was so patient? I had one drink too many. Or maybe nine?

I wouldn’t be alive today if he didn’t give me that steady push with a fist.

As soon as I saw red in my hair I knew I’ve made it into the naughty list.

It’s fine. Really, it’s fine. I’ll take the risk.

-JW

Fantasy of Teal

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Your words flow like a river. They spin me out of control, they carry me down

To the lowest points of the shore. Make up running, making me into the clown

You know I am – deep below the surface. So you keep shoveling the soil, faster,

Or as Fitzgerald put it – we beat on just to fall back into the past, to become a disaster.

There is this immeasurable darkness inside of me when I see your face, I feel reckless.

You are the one to sympathize, but you also beg me to wear a hangman’s knot as a necklace.

How full of oneself can a person be? When does the pride begin to overflow?

Just as a shallow basin you drip on the floor each night before you start a row.

We argue about the system, we beat each other black and blue for the thrill.

People say that I look happier but we both know you kick in like a bitter pill.

The high you give is worthless if you keep dragging me deeper in the waters –

But I guess that is what you get after years of ditching belief in holy fathers.

I never trust a story with a happy ending because there is always the next chapter.

When you first fell into my nets, they called me a serial cheater and a captor.

Look at us now – selling our act on the street corners for a dime. You – closing the deals,

Me, kneeling on the red brick road, making sure that my psyche heals

Before you once again keep my head underwater with your heel.

What’s not to love about life spent in a fantasy of teal?

-JW