Tag: writer

Too Kind

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Photo by Mathias Reding

Are people just open wounds waiting to ooze?

Are we dying to infect whoever comes too close?

You joked about becoming my full-time muse,

Now you can’t take my words,

My smiles and my clothes.

You suffocate me, I am drowning in liquid.

My lungs are filling up with congealed blood.

Am I nothing more than one of your victims?

You let me bloom like fire,

Then cut off the rosebud.

You spread like a disease through my mind

And left me outside to heal on my own.

But you were wrong in thinking I am too kind

To slash you in half

And take back the throne.

-Jackie

When The Clock Strikes Eleven

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Photo by Gabriela Cheloni

I don’t recall the last time I had anything of substance to say to you.

To be frank, I don’t even miss the days when I still didn’t have a clue.

But I know better now – some people can love you and get it all very wrong,

And there’s no reason to cry about it because storms don’t last too long.

Even if I found the sentence that would unlock your walls and fences,

I wouldn’t have the patience to fight your love, so fragile and defenseless.

All the misery weighed too hard on me, so I asked my people for help.

They confirmed what I’ve been suspecting – you had prosecuted yourself.

I carried your limp body on my shoulders for weeks, then months.

My own legs collapsed but you insisted that the heart wants what it wants.

Now I don’t have the heart to tell you that we’re dead and rotting away

Because you haven’t had the courtesy to show empathy in ten days.

If you can’t see that your own silhouette is blocking your ladder to heaven,

You can get these empty niceties back.

I will kill them when the clock strikes eleven.

-Jackie

As Sure As The Tides Will Fall And Rise

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Photo by shahin khalaji

We are stuck between live and let die.

I let you cut off my limbs one by one

Until I need you to survive,

Need you to hold my golden gun.

My lungs crave the air you breathe,

But you are not giving it away.

I wish I still had the strength to leave.

I wish I wanted to stay.

The trains will crash at midnight

As you hold me in your arms.

The sound will kill our porch light,

But the fire will do no harm.

The morning after I will arise

To my pale limbs all greeting me.

As sure as the tides will fall and rise,

I will reclaim my dignity.

-Jackie

Eclipse

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Photo by Sonya Borovaya

These long eclipse hours I waste daydreaming about what could have been,

They weigh heavily on what is left of my heart,

Then erase my good deeds to replace them with sins.

I long for a place under this pitch-black sky but all I see are scarlet warnings.

Loose memories float right in front of my face,

And I can only hope I get to see the next morning.

No, it was not always like this – I still remember how I used to greet the sun.

Every puzzle piece of my virtues broke into shards,

So, I told my loved ones to run.

Now I keep getting stuck in this endless feedback loop of spiraling emotions,

And nobody dares to call my name out loud

Because I turn sympathy into solid devotion.

Some nights I even enjoy watching the fear fill their eyes like maroon smoke.

I hate who I have become more than anything,

But I fantasize about choking out these old jokes.

These long eclipse hours I spend considering how I let myself bleed red,

They drag me by my ankles like balloons,

Then replace my gleeful smiles with torment and dread.

-Jackie

Terrible People

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Photo by Caique Araujo

We laugh in a cozy bar without a single soul around us.

Just for a moment I enjoy the silence in my head.

I get high on conversations about terrible people,

And your patience for your boss is hanging by a thread.

Someone drops their cold beer and breaks the glass,

But we barely notice as the sparkling time flies by.

I do not remember what I cried about last night,

And I am sure that you have the strongest alibi.

The streetlights do not make any sense in the rain

As we jump over puddles giggling like some kids.

A few months ago, I walked until I got soaking wet,

And I thought that love should feel like needles and pins.

But I am not that bright-eyed girl who they once knew.

Irises replaced the sour feelings that grew rotten.

I know he is out there talking about terrible people,

And as long as you are here, it is all long forgotten.

-Jackie

Bring It To Light

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Photo by Yaroslav Shuraev

Not a scratch on my body as I crawl off the battlefield,

And you might be after me,

But my spite is a jester’s shield.

I suck in the smoke coming from heavy machinery.

No one dares to shoot first

Except for you and your apologies.

Seven angels stare me down and spit on my dirty feet,

But I know they don’t mean it

If they don’t want to fight thirty fleets.

I have the force of an uncouth god looking for a legacy,

And you’re the grey prophet,

Drowning me in green fantasies.

Which one of us started this descent into travesty?

Which one will erase the lines?

Who will sweat out some honesty?

As you bring me to light, I grit my own bloody teeth,

And you might be the champion,

But there are no saints left here.

-Jackie

Pick Your Poison

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Photo by Ozan Çulha

My body is just a shell with no operator,

And I fill it with substances when it gets dark.

Pretty poisons hang from my bathroom mirror,

Claiming they can give me back the spark.

But these pills I’m taking kill the joy

And they carve my love for you into questions.

My tongue strikes like the snake in Eden

Until every living soul gets tired of my confessions.

-Jackie

Vapor

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Photo by Marina Gr

It evaporated that warm August night when I waited for your call,

But it did not come through

Because whenever I picked up my wings, you dropped like an anchor and stalled.

It evaporated after you did not check in after my late-night flight.

You did not tell me a single thing,

Then went silent when I tried to beg, borrow, and pick up a fight.

It evaporated that evening I reached out to you as the last resort,

And all you did was distance yourself

When I needed a soul that could help me hold up the fort.

It evaporated that October morning I woke up not calling your name

After months upon months of screaming it,

And that morning I knew I had a shot at winning this game.

It evaporated when I told you I wanted you and not your reason,

But you turned it into a childish gag,

Breaking what was left of my pride into the smallest pieces.

It evaporates as I type out these words on this tired screen.

I do not think there is much left,

And you will not stop until the water turns into pure chlorine.

It evaporates, but only because I bled myself dry to keep it flowing.

I am older now, so I can admit it –

Sometimes I wish I had a shot at not loving,

Not knowing.

-Jackie

Happiness

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Photo by Sangeet Rao

What if I blurt out the words and let them shoot across the foggy fields like sun rays?

What if I jump in the clear water just to feel the chill tingling my head like a haze?

I am far too afraid to let out a sound because the hounds have been after my scent.

The last time I took that risk they cleaned out my heart and put my chest up for rent.

The feeling deserves its place under the sky, but my lips refuse to part for weeks,

And I am stuck on a cliff with everyone watching me, thinking that I have grown weak.

But what if the water turns out to be muddy and the people I love simply leave? 

What if my confessions are nothing but daydreams that I could not trap in my sleep?

I know there are those who are queueing up to see me fall in the wrong direction. 

If they hear my heartbeat picking up the pace, they will gossip about me selling affection.

Still, my breaths are running out of misdirected anger to convert into selfish fear,

And every year I learn more about how happy people do not hold judgements dear.

So, what if I spill the sentences until they form a new version of these old bones? 

What if I run off this cliff and dive into the water just to find out that I am never alone?

-Jackie

The Monster Behind Us

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Photo by Lena Glukhova

Some ten years ago I wrote this poem about my own demise,

And the streets were only black and white –

No gray and no compromise.

Nobody ever read it because I did not want them to know.

I just let the sadness take the wheel

As I sat back in the last row.

No, that is not true, I was really pushed down on my bare knees,

Praying that someone could hear me

And burn my apologies.

Nobody ever knew it because I hid under my luminous titles.

Achievements can be the carrot,

But they can also be the monster behind us.

Now I sit here a decade later with an army of me in the corner,

Sharpening blades and nurturing love,

And crossing all the borders.

Nobody ever dares to tell me that my words hold no meaning.

Some want me to fear the looks they throw

But I am done with bleeding.

Still, I think about the poem and how I thought I knew the end.

Now I would rather be the bad actor

Than make someone else’s amends.

Some might find it cruel, some might find it very characteristic,

But no matter what they call it,

I deserve to be here even when I risk it.

-Jackie