Tag: writer

When the white fangs pierced your skin, you knew you chose wrong.

When my pride lost its throne, you realized I have known all along.

So, take me back to the forest, put your blade into my shaking back,

Show them that you are the ice queen, only seeing white or black.

Oh, how I have been wronged, but I never uttered a single phrase.

You told me to hold my horses, then put hot flame in my face.

A year ago, I would have told them you do not deserve the reputation,

But those times are long gone, and they have killed my patience.

-Jackie

The time has come to pick up the sharp pieces and reinvent myself.

I have to choose a better mask before the dogs are sent after my scent.

It’s time to practice smiling in the mirror, practice laughing at jokes.

The people I used to call friends, they all hope I finally choke.

Yes, it’s time to drink champagne as my life collapses around me.

They will send rescuers to the scene who will claim they cannot find me.

It’s time to spin at the edge of a steep cliff and pretend I do not care.

I wish they knew how cruel it was to treat my heart as a dare.

-Jackie

They combed the old forests searching for you,

They stared at my arms, looking for a faint bruise.

I could feel the rage, could feel the daggers landing.

How could all this wrath come from something romantic?

They cried for seven nights while counting my breaths.

Remind me, honey, was it something I said?

I saw them stealing my sanity like it was a drug.

Tell me – do you love this grave that we dug?

-Jackie

Good things never come from fragile egos and weak backbones.

God, I look back and wish that I could rule this kingdom alone.

They charmed me with their split tongues, made me into a zero.

Now my palace burns with hateful chants and self-proclaimed heroes.

I wish I knew how to make it right, but all I seem to do is break things.

My teeth have bitten way too many skins for me to boost ratings,

And they know that once the world finds out I will be just a wreck.

Good things never come out of people that capitalize on regret.

-Jackie

My feet tend to take me to peculiar places,

They never once take me back home.

And my friends ask me to slow my pace,

So, I always have to walk alone.

My feet take me down to dark castles,

They stomp on ancient graves.

People always treat me like I do not matter,

So, I only have myself to save.

My feet walk through mud and clear water,

They get cut open on rocks.

I wish I could finally call my father,

But he has my number blocked.

My feet tend to take me to scary towns,

They take me where I belong.

The locals think I am a circus clown,

And, honey, they are not wrong.

-Jackie

You swept me off my feet like flood tends to do with towns,

Then you kept me under the water, hoping I would drown.

Baby, I am not your demon to burn or tear into pieces.

You can tell god whatever you please, save your reasons.

You think I do not notice the purple wounds that you leave,

You think I do not hear how you curse when I sleep.

Still, I have heard every syllable, felt every single punch,

But you are convinced you have long killed my raging hunch.

Do not doubt for even one second – I will shoot to kill.

I will scrape you off my brain, slay you with white pills,

And your pouring rain will form rainbows under my sun.

Yes, you swept me off my feet, but you never held the gun.

-Jackie