his eyes were blurred, half open
and constantly shifting, his mouth
a soft gash along his chin, his hand
twisting among the grey, wiry curls on his head
and with one arm along the seat behind him
he slouched, facing the doors
like an uncomfortable silence
like an awkward comment
like someone who didn’t belong
and yet i could see that he did
there on the bus at one in the morning
this man was at home, as he tried
to make eye contact with me and i turned
to the window instead
and the woman behind him moved
to the back of the bus as soon as she could
to escape his wayward, grasping fingers
and i felt pity for him
grey, gasping pity
pity that made my eyes travel back and forth
between the window and indoors
as, inexplicably, i tried to capture
the creature sitting there
and i watched his feet shift
as the bus rocked beneath us and somehow
i saw the world from his eyes, the shady seats
and the angular, beautiful people
each one passing him by
hands gripping the posts and avoiding his gaze
and his mind was swimming in amber liquid
i knew that, i saw it
plain as day, this man was drunk
and though when he met my eyes
my brow was furrowed, my face uninviting
inside, i felt that same aching pity
and i thought damn, i’ll make poetry
from this somehow
and perhaps the words are simple
but i’m sure it’s the first time
that anybody has ever put that man
down on a piece of paper
in full colour
Give me time
and we will show them
You once compared yourself
to wine and cheese.
I laughed a lot
and still do.
So I am writing you.
And not directly
because when I do,
it's never good enough.
When you read this,
and all the stars
will fall inside.
Faith exists within
the realm of
Love is old
between the cracks
in our teeth,
hearts, and minds.
It dried up
and cracked away.
Free from its
The lair of your breath,
the hole in my heart,
when I look in your eyes.
but my wings
Please come back.
Please come back.
Please come back.
I forgive you.
I have a lot of insecurities and self doubt
There are a lot of things that I don’t particularly love about myself
The way that I would second guess most of the decisions I made
The way that I used to prowl about,
and devour every man that made me feel like a prostitute without pay
I often times sit and ponder about how insufferably
rich I could have been, if only I had been using my head
These insecurities and self doubt,
They live in me like the blood that pumps through my veins
It’s not as though I've lost my pride
Or the emptiness I feel deep inside
It’s like a blade, without the sharp tip
plunging into my heart
And the tears swirl beautifully down the drain
disappearing, and turning into a drought
A river bled dry, of all it's renowned glory
and distasteful self perpetuating doubt
The fruits of my labor are not regrets that I wish to take back
Rather lessons that I've learned
While stumbling along the wrong side of the tracks
© 2013 Christina Jackson
Anger builds inside of me this secret can't get out.
What would they think,
of the girl who stayed with the asshole,
but that isn't the truth.
and he isn't an asshole.
It was just a kiss,
a kiss that should have been mine.
It was yours to give.
He gave it to another girl.
She smelled bad, her lips were so small.
I hold on to those lines,
they make me feel better.
I feel terrible, I miss you, I can't forgive myself.
He speaks the truth.
His stomach drops.
I haven't told a single soul.
How much pain a small kiss brought.
A moment that could have been ours to have,
was stolen from my grasp.
I was cheated that one kiss.
I was cheated that one stare.
I was cheated that one moment,
were you loved me enough to not give in
to any amount of pressure that was felt.
It was only a kiss, but it wasn't hers to have,
it shouldn't have been yours to give.
It was only a kiss, but it broke me.
Great old siren
standing empty on the corner
with cracked pane milky cataracts,
dusty silk gown of cobwebs
flaking paint shadows on the dead lawn
breathing out of gaping eyes
the breath of years,
a widow with pendulous chandeliers
to tell the time whispers,
always singing with the changing weather,
expanding in the heat,
or frigid metal bones creaking
inside a wooden box.
Why Winter why?
Why does everything have to look like it's
straight out of a Hallmark card?
Why is the snow that is floating down softly
give me that empty feeling inside?
Why can't I find someone
to share this holiday with?
The Dreamworks moon
gazes back at me
while I drive home.
I sigh and think,
"He's out there. I just know it!"
Going inside and out
Compression to stretching
Something like breathing
Who's playing this squeezebox?
Can I make a request?
Play something lively, loud, and fast
My heart's tied in knots
My brain's hanging on
By the skin of my teeth
For the length of one song
Dance like you're dying
And dance like you're dead
Life is little more
Than a song in your head
Break down the walls and let it all in
Dance as if this moment will never end
Move to the rhythm and jump towards your soul
Suspended stringless puppet under no one's control
Fall down to yourself right on top of the beat
Spinning in the center of where all the lines meet
Slow it down for the break and take a deep breath
Potential energy buildup for what's coming next
Those chills in the moment right before it all hits
Soul, body, and mind caught up in the mix
Hear it; explode
Supernovate the senses
The death of a star amid a galaxy of faces
To be born again
In a jet stream of limbs
I find enlightenment
At 150 bpm
Colorlessness filth inside
Spiritless and exposed
The bloodshed of humanity prolongs
As Injustice penetrates our wounds
As we have lost our way
They say that your eyes are the windows to your soul
But these deep blue eyes are a miss interpretation of mine.
Because you’ll never know what I feel inside
Or when I choose to lie
When I say that I’m alright.
For those words have fooled so many
Even when I feel like screaming help me
Oh it’s ironic
How life goes on
When mine is crumbling down all at once
Is it okay to fear the next days dawn?
And how it forces me to carry on
When all I want to do is just sleep the pain away
And run to where I feel safe
And I've tried that so many times
But never get very far
So don’t be so naïve to believe
What you see
When you look at me
For I am broken…
Just. Like. You.
I never though I'd feel again. I hoped that my heart would never heal. But lately I've been feeling. Lately I've been happy.
Butterflies keep flying inside.
I'm apologizing for what I see as my flaws.
I'm trying to make things perfect.
Even though I could never be perfect. I'm so glad we're talking and that we're giving this a chance.
Watching movies, eating pizza and holding hands.
I never thought I'd feel again.
But my heart started beating again.