A lonely wistful embrace
on the days I remember
peering up at that chiseled face
A dashing fellow masked in disguise
Hidden beneath a beautiful surface
Wrapped within a tangled web of ghastly lies
I gazed long into the mirror and wondered why
Too many nights I laid on the pavement, waiting for my demise
Looking up at the vast and empty skies
Cluttered by clouds and all the city lights
I didn't understand why you were doing this, I didn't know why
You used to tell me this story, while your eyes focused in on my thighs
An unsettling feeling would succumb in my stomach, like a plunging knife
Your words cut thick, through the withered skin I once called my life
I learned how to live without the shackles of your inner strife
Do not mistake me for being weak, I was never yours to truly keep
Like a prized possession on a shelf, only to be taken out when your own monsters became
too much for you to dwell
Your future is bleak, filled with all the false promises you'll never keep
I hope you're happy locked inside of your cage
Where no one can reach you and feel the wrath of your rage
When you come of age and times get weary
Remember me, and remember my furry
You are nothing but a demon
trapped inside of a body
slowly rotting you with its venom
And when your clock stops ticking
you'll finally know what it's like to have your happy ending
© 2013 Christina Jackson

I used to be able to write
endlessly for days
but not anymore
I've got nothing to say

I don't know what happened
To the never ending thread that kept on giving

It was cut somewhere
between yesterday, and the beginning
I don't know what happened
I've always got something to say

Am I tangled in a web; with the master and the mistress?
It seems I have forgotten
All the words to every poem I've ever written

A clear vision so gracefully in site
As if the heavens reached down
and connected the earth, to sky

I often wonder why words
exist in the first place

They get confused with other words
Misinterpreted
For something they never were to begin with

I don't know what happened
Writing is the oxygen that flows from within
I'd have absolutely nothing
if writing wasn't the blood pumping through my veins
Keeping me alive, each and everyday
© 2013 Christina Jackson

You are the universe, the star dust flowing from within
Such beauty radiates from your iridescent skin
Glowing in the sunshine, welcoming everyone in
So inviting, like a doormat with a wonderful saying,
You are the flowers, the trees, and the leaves, infinitely swaying.
© 2013 Christina Jackson