Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

13th November

Black and white,

basked in moonlight,

monochrome mistress,

of my ungranted wishes,

I am in the garden,

guarding my heart from your head full of hopes and dreams.

I have been seen,

by the stars,

staring at a telephone,

that projects classic scenes,

black and white,

like me,

trains and roaring lions,

and a kiss,

that could belong to us,

if I only had the nerve,

to give my heart,

to the intentions and attentions of your brain.

img_4661

I am at home with the horror of heartbreak,

breaking my own heart,

with my own hands,

keeping her locked away,

black and white,

black and blue.

She’s too sweet,

for the dusky,

beaten up streets,

she’s been buried,

under her own unrealistic expectations,

living underneath the underground,

where she was first split,

spilling all across the tracks,

until I picked her up,

patching her up,

promising that I would keep her safe,

but…

You are looming in the doorway,

drumming your fingers on the frame,

tempting me,

with a trail of torrential trailers,

of our forever love together,

and I followed it…

Goodness, gracious, Gretal,

here we go again.


Read My Books

Hear My Music

Hear My Podcast

RECENT FREE CREATIVE WRITING COLLECTIONS
In The Garden Of The Free Children
Virgin Vogue
Sad Girl’s Love Song

COME FIND ME
Twitter
Soundcloud
Instagram
Ask Jen

Facebook
Patreon

Tumblr
Amazon

Podcast
Spotify

YouTube
Rumbl
Email Me

One thought on “13th November

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s