Tag: writer

The muddy battlefields I left behind scream my name almost every dawn,

And each time I choose to look away, they leave dead animals on my lawn.

The parts of myself I gave up for peace are now haunting my worst nightmares.

My fears form a statue in the back of my mind, saying that I should not fight fair.

But I still remember all the moves I made and all the scars I collected,

And my innocence sits on a shelf these days, it is petrified and neglected.

I did the best I could to survive the substances taking over my sanity.

The wind tells a different story though, it mixes self-preservation with vanity.

Still, the foggy battlefields crave my flesh with the power of a loose cannibal.

It will be months before I can stop running like a frightened animal.

If the time is kind, the wounds will heal and pieces will fall back into place,

But only when they burn my casket without me,

I will know that I have won the race.

-Jackie

They say that they know how this tale will end,

And they try to finish up my chapter.

But my story is a rotting corpse,

Seeping through walls, leaking through wrappers.

They said that I was another goner,

Then they told me to keep my teeth in check.

Yet they never listened when I begged,

They just watched as I became a wreck.

They said that people like me are rolling stones,

Then they set the gravity into motion.

Still, I crawled up the hill despite the weight,

And that won their undying devotion.

They say that they know how this tell will end.

They did not notice me rewriting the ending.

My story twists like a cursed soul,

It is raw, yet still worth defending.

-Jackie

My pale pain is blind, yet my fury is always pointed.

It is sharper than the mightiest sword,

Straight, yet clearly avoidant.

I have tried it all, but my self-deprecation owns me.

It slides its fingers through my hair,

Swears that this love is holy.

There is nothing left to burn here other than the truth.

It once promised to melt my chains,

Now it calls me a prude.

But I know that the pain will guide me to the very end.

I would rather bet on my innocence

Than play my fury’s pretend.

-Jackie

My heart pumps scarlet blood the same way it used to,

And my head traps all the monsters who used to abuse you.

I tend to forget some names, but I never forget faces.

When I think of his, my heart breaks and then it races.

We are all put in cages, yet mine came with a key.

It is up to me to decide if it is a gift or pure misery.

I feel the blood rushing to the surface as I breathe in.

Some people like their rage, but I am done with the feeling.

Still, my chest never lets me down, it tells me I need it,

And my skull jails horrors, but I still go and feed it.

I forgive others, yet I never dare to forgive myself.

My demons will clap when I fall from the highest shelf.

-Jackie

My tongue often gets bitten, but I promise to let it loose tonight,

And when they come for your secrets, I swear that I will not put up a fight.

I will be losing my flesh in the battle, but you will become a wreck.

Forgiveness is too much to ask for someone who came for my neck.

My lifeline almost slipped through my fingers while I was taming you,

And when I was taking my last breath, you told me you had no clue.

Still, I turned the other cheek, hoping to evolve into a faint nothing,

Wishing to become a zero, dreaming to escape your rage and bluffing.

Love, my skull almost turned inside out just to please your appetites,

And when that dam finally burst, it released all your parasites.

Yet, it will be me losing limbs while you run away from the truth.

I wonder if you ever get tired of acting like the world wronged you.

-Jackie

Honey, please do not worry, I really do not feel like death.

My frame is transparent, and my pulse is an empty threat.

Honey, what is the matter, oh, why are you screaming?

My eyes are two black holes endlessly sinking or dreaming.

Honey, I told you too many times to never let them win.

My breath is just a ghoulish wind bumping into cheap tin.

Honey, I beg you to listen, I do not feel like a ghost.

You have known ever since you found my corpse on the coast.

Honey, what is the reason behind you crying so loud?

I wish I could have cried like that, but I was never allowed.

Honey, I begged you too many times to get me help,

But you insisted that these blades will only make me yelp.

Honey, the wounds never healed, they leaked red on the carpet.

Deep inside I knew that you had made me into a paper target.

Honey, please check twice if you locked the door tonight.

My frame is transparent, and I am as ghostly as my might.

-Jackie

The reasons escape me like dizzy moths escape darkness,

And the black spill in my ocean tells me the sky is starless.

I do not know if I can make it a day or maybe two,

My animals are rioting, getting ready to leave this zoo.

I sit and I look back at the things I have killed for fun.

It breaks my pale skin, but will I ever be done?

My therapist says I should be much nicer to myself,

But if I do, no one will hear when I finally beg for help.

It is true, I only lose dear people when I get better –

A healing soul can only open so many mean letters.

A burning soul will cling onto gasoline to feel alive,

And I was never that good with using the prop knives.

All I have known is my soul being used like a free sample.

Now there is not much left, so do not take a gamble.

The reasons spill from me like blood from a fresh cut,

And the last light in my ribcage tells me to kill this rut.

-Jackie

I sip them like wine,

But I don’t know the limit.

I trap love in a rhyme,

Then go and kill it.

Honey, I’m a menace,

Just be careful.

Leave me on a terrace,

Scarred and tearful.

I breathe them like fumes,

But my lungs are grey.

All I do is lose,

I’m an empty tray.

Honey, I’m a whirlwind,

Sharp and unstable.

I showed you how to sin,

Then turned the tables.

-Jackie

I fell for your tricks because they kept away my ghouls.

Little did I know – you would never show me yours.

My red mascara dripped on the beige kitchen floor.

I told you my truth, but you just called me a tool.

You made me indecisive in the worst situations,

I healed you like a wound, treated you like a patient.

My survival instinct must have been on a vacation

Because when I look back, I no longer have the patience.

I fell for your charms because I was too proud to lie,

And I granted others wishes and a dozen second tries.

But I am starting to remember how to not want to die.

Love, now I know better – bravery is a reprise.

-Jackie