Fine Wine and Smirnoff Ice

Someone asked me why I won’t date men my age.

They asked me and I was cast back through time,

on trains and buses,

listening to men my age,

when they think they can’t be heard,

boasting about body counts,

swapping stories like Pokemon cards,

about women who trusted them to keep it to themselves.

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I hear men my age,

when they think they can’t be heard,

because my earphones are my guard dogs,

and we have mastered the art of looking unfriendly.

I hear men my age,

confidently crowing about their sexual prowess,

trying to impress and outdo each other,

not seeming to realise that the only cunt they’ll be seeing tonight,

is their reflections in the mirror.

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I am so bored,

listening to them babble on,

being so overwhelmingly underwhelming in every way,

but it’s like a car crash,

and I’m glued to the trash TV, that is men my age.

I hear men my age,

when they think they can’t be heard,

and I think,

wow bro,

men of all ages can be monsters,

but at least the older ones have the experience

to try and keep the mask on for a minute.


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Left Behind

Maybe the way your voice shakes isn’t an impediment,

it’s relevant to remember,

that you only get caught up,

abandoned by your own breath,

when you think too much,

about the way you lost your last voice.

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You only get fucked up,

when you think of how you lost her,

the way she clung to your coat,

as you began the long road away from yourself,

closing your eyes,

as if it would silence her screams,

as she begged and pleaded,

wondering why she wasn’t good enough to stay in your body.

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Maybe it’s an indication,

that you’re choking on the things you stole,

and the corpse of your last cause,

your last voice,

that you lost,

lays inside your throat,

staring up at the way she was replaced,

growing more vengeful every day,

getting in the way of your new life.


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RECENT FREE CREATIVE WRITING COLLECTIONS
Virgin Vogue
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New Podcast Episode Available

Hola amigos,

There is a new podcast episode available, featuring some new poems, as well as discussions about emotional maturity, whether cultural appropriation is a real issue or not, and if public shaming is cool or cruel.

You can find the new episode on your favourite podcast provider here, and you can find the episode guide for Sincerely, Jennifer x here.

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Besos,

J x



Read My Books

Hear My Music

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RECENT FREE CREATIVE WRITING COLLECTIONS
Virgin Vogue
Sad Girl’s Love Song
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Completely

Say it isn’t so,

say you haven’t figured me out,

ah,

you utter bastard,

you know all about me,

weaving through my wayward games,

to pin me down,

playfully pushing me out of my comfort cavern,

until I am uncomfortable with how comfortable I am with you.

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You ask me if I want to live my life alive,

or if I’m happy playing dead.

I said something vague,

and your eyes hit the sky,

holding me so tight,

I worry I will meld with you,

completely.

img_0294

We take our days,

like you used took your drugs,

it’s enough for me,

that you said I keep you clean,

meaning so much,

makes my wings itch,

but I am desperate to see a new face in the mirror,

one who doesn’t need to impress you,

one who has grown past my need to flee the scene,

when life gets too good.

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This is the part where it’s different.

There will be days where it’s different.

Like, maybe life really is you make it,

and I’m stronger when weak for you.


Download free copies of my books here


Read My Books

Hear My Music

Hear My Podcast

RECENT FREE CREATIVE WRITING COLLECTIONS
Virgin Vogue
Sad Girl’s Love Song
Drowning In Us

COME FIND ME
Twitter
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Instagram
Ask Jen

Facebook
Patreon

Tumblr
Amazon

Podcast
Spotify

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Email Me