Christina Jackson

Christina Jackson Aug 2014

I dream't of you last night
We were walking around a strange town,
for what seemed like miles and miles
It wouldn't end

At last, a moment of bliss
our lips sealed in a kiss
My arms and yours
embraced like the roots of a sierra

And in that moment, I awoke
To the cold bleakness of weathered
and worn eyes

Torn from my existence

Without you once again
and that was that

Nothing more, nothing less
Only in my dreams will you
continue to exist.
© 2014 Christina Jackson

Christina Jackson Aug 2014

The lies I tell myself

The drunkenness of my mind
Saturated in liquid form
Exasperates the indigenous
parts of my fleeting eyes
Covering the smoke filled
screens of my life
Leaving me hopeless in this
state of uncovered lies.
© 2014 Christina Jackson

Christina Jackson Aug 2014

Unrealistic fantasy

There’s a fictional place in my head,
where you and I exist.
A masterpiece, that unfortunately
does not exist.
© 2014 Christina Jackson

Christina Jackson Jul 2014

Conception of thought

I see the sky slowly melt before my eyes
As I sit upon this wall, contemplating it all,
contemplating it all

The moon arrives slowly through the fog
A sweet smile appears, only she's not
smiling at all.
Contemplating it all, contemplating it all.

The shadows appear taller as darkness falls
Contemplating if the stars align for cause
or just because.

Contemplating it all, contemplating it all

Little night lights appear as sunlight begins
to fall

The world stays beautiful through it all,
through it all.

The ugliness doesn't disappear, but the
pain fades little by little
through it all.
© 2014 Christina Jackson

Christina Jackson Jul 2014

All my life

All my life I've searched for love-
It is only in the recent years I have
ceased searching and continued working
on myself that I have had many
opportunities surpass me by.

I am not a slave to the love I give
nor am I slave to the love that
is given.

I will not succumb to a perpetuating
misogynistic fool that only wants me
because I want what he thinks is real

I am not a follower of faith, nor a lover
or guided by "Gods" misguided ways

You may be offended by this statement
but please remember we are all
individuals and different.

Practicing spirituality in several
different ways.

Each of us with our own opinions
Never forgetting the rhythm of
our heart beats

No opinion nor religion can surmount
the fact that consequentially-
we are HUMAN.
© 2014 Christina Jackson

Christina Jackson Jul 2014

Fading

Life slips by so quickly
in an instant you've
lost your way

My voice echos
on into infinity

Forever guiding you home
Where I'll always be

My heart; a loving place
you can forever call home
© 2014 Christina Jackson

My only inspiration has been lost in a sea of wires and network cables. Forever gone....

Christina Jackson Jul 2014

Inadequate

You have always been
my second mother
Like the second coming
of Christ.
Always with a burning
passion, controlling what I do.
I had not realized what you
truly were to me-
Until quite recently

It was not the admirer I had
looked up to for 20 something years.
You were my greatest downfall I
had ever stumbled upon.

With those baby blues and
perfect blonde hair-
You were everything they wanted
and I was the one to spare.

In passing, I realized I was not
the child you foresaw me to be
Yet, the undying rebel lived so
graciously inside of me.

You grew stricter with age
and embellished the love
you gave away.

I had not noticed your prudent
ways until I saw you calm-
Cold and ungrateful for what I
had become.

You never wanted me.
I was always a living fantasy

A child you conjured up
in your head.
I hadn't peaked your breed
of the living dead.

It was never enough for you-
Always put off by who I
aspired to be.

It's okay- I've been found
guilty of everything you
never wanted me to be.

You don't have to like one another
to love one another.

And I don't love you like
the womb that bore me into this
world.

I am just as good as you, yet you're
the symbolic definition of perfection.

I'll never live up to your unrealistic
expectations.
I was a fool to think you'd ever want
me for who I'm truly to be.
In my dying days-
You are not welcome

You'd promise so much
and leave me with
such an unloving welcome.
© 2014 Christina Jackson