-
She Has a Type
Lost little lady, living so many lives, dancing in her diamonds, with divorced dads, in the mist of memories, smoky scenes, drunk, Disaronno, a promise to God, where her garter rests, undisturbed.
-
Mother
Rosary, rosary, wrap yourself around my neck, show me how to ascend, let me be pure. Mother, let me be pure, again.
-
Turn Off The Moon
You called me your baby, then you backed away, tainted by your tone. I wasn’t a baby, according to my advanced but amateur mind, bare legs, back and forth, behind your desk, in the dress you decided suited me best, precocious pendulum, preempting our doom. You found me again, your fantasy, in front of the…
-
They’re All Gonna Laugh At You
Heaven is hell to get to. Eve was weak, and so am I, cursed with blood, and a heart that breaks too easily, keeping myself in the cupboard, because loneliness and fear, feel far better, than being seduced by sin, once again, paying a price I could never afford. So long, salvation, I knew nothing…
-
My Misspent Youth
Cool girl, Canary Wharf, pickpocketing promises, of necklaces and neck kisses, when all she wants is dinner and drinks, the chance to collapse into the city, see the world, on the right side of the river. Taking notes, in lectures, bustling bars, on how to find a rich man, to take to the inevitable family…
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
Sincerely, Jennifer x 