Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

New Video: Charlie

Hola amigos,

You can now check out the video for one of my recent poems “Charlie”, from my audio collection “What Ever Happened To Baby Jen?”

I hope you enjoy it.

Besos,

J x


Charlie.
I need you.

You’re so into me,
under my skin,
so deep,
that I forget how to love you.

I just want you.
I tear myself apart,
when we’re apart.
Cut to ribbons,
wrecked,
when you arrive.
I am thrown to the thrill,
of craving,
chasing,
choosing you,
every single time.

Please choose me too.

Fuck everyone else.
I need you.
I’ve said it’s over,
every day,
since we met,
but you’ve never left my head,
even when I can’t feel you in my arms.
I’ve been tracing where you’ve been on my body,
wishing I could will you in.

I am crying.
I am sick.
I am yours.
I am yours.
There’s no room left in me,
for anything but you,
and I feel so claustrophobic.

I itch.
I scream.
I sob for you.
It’s too late,
for me to leave,
or love,
the way I remember that I did,
before you.

I adore you,
but I don’t love you.
I don’t even like you,
when I hide from daylight,
dressed in the pain of knowing you are gone.
Dressed in the shame of knowing you were here in the first place.

Again.
Again.
I am choosing you.
Please choose me too.
Let me go.
Let me go.

Charlie.
I need you.


Enter The Poetry Competition here

Order “Kissing Boys, Just For The Thrill” here

Order “Stormy Weather” here

Order “Last Of The Greenwich Glamour Girls” here

Order “The Things We Did Last Summer” here

Order “Home Wrecker” here

Listen to”Past Preston” here

Listen to “2AM” here

RECENT FREE CREATIVE WRITING COLLECTIONS
What Ever Happened To Baby Jen?
Notes To My Muse
Are You Afraid?

RECENT BLOGS
Release Day
2AM Music Video
Why I Hate Dating In The Modern World

COME FIND ME
Twitter
Instagram
Ask Jen
Facebook
Patreon
Tumblr
Amazon
Podcast
Spotify
YouTube

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

The Babysitter

You never weatherproofed your roof,

and so I came,

with the rain,

falling unwelcome,

but essential,

dripping into your daydreams,

washing away the nights of low self esteem,

waiting in the gutter,

for you to need me again.

I dance in the damp,

to the sound of your thunder,

love for each striking stroke,

of lightning,

down my spine,

to a place you only know,

when we are alone,

dripping in desperation,

drowning in things

you know you should sail past.

I’ve leaked into your life,

drops of me in your dinner,

your children swim in my kindness.

We couldn’t pull ourselves from this whirlpool,

so we sink to the ocean beds,

paddling in deep, deep trouble.

I’ve counted the seconds your eyes explore me,

as you walk me home,

as you put up your umbrella,

drinking in one last look,

whispering something about silly little girls,

grumbling about getting a new babysitter,

but,

you never do,

you just return,

with a slight adjustment of your coat,

that covers too much,

and kiss me,

with restriction,

on the cheek,

making it clear,

you’ll let your home wash away,

in our flood.


Enter The Monthly Poetry Competition here

Pre Order “Kissing Boys, Just For The Thrill” here

Order “Stormy Weather” here

Order “Last Of The Greenwich Glamour Girls” here

Order “The Things We Did Last Summer” here

Order “Home Wrecker” here

Listen to”Past Preston” here

Listen to “2AM” here

RECENT FREE CREATIVE WRITING COLLECTIONS
Notes To My Muse
Are You Afraid?

Ladylike

RECENT BLOGS
Release Day
2AM Music Video
Why I Hate Dating In The Modern World

COME FIND ME

Twitter

Instagram
Ask Jen

Facebook
Patreon

Tumblr
Amazon

Podcast
Spotify

YouTube

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Women

The bitter bite of being underestimated,

again,

as if I am not sewn together,

from the ones

the world tried to tear apart.

pexels-photo-556658

Today,

I am not the girl I was.

I am patched up,

with pieces,

a collage of Queens.

Their bones are fused,

with my refusal to be silent,

we are together,

awake,

unlocked,

all over the world.

We graffiti the streets,

with pictures of promise,

daring to be the women we needed.

pexels-photo-556665

They told my Grandma,

“Find a nice man,

have a baby,

get a new kitchen,

if you behave yourself.”

They told my Grandma to change herself.

She changed the world,

instead.

So will I.

pexels-photo-205000


Enter The Monthly Poetry Competition here

Order “Stormy Weather” here

Order “Last Of The Greenwich Glamour Girls” here

Order “The Things We Did Last Summer” here

Order “Home Wrecker” here

Listen to”Past Preston” here

Listen to “2AM” here

RECENT FREE CREATIVE WRITING COLLECTIONS
Notes To My Muse
Are You Afraid?
Ladylike

RECENT BLOGS
Release Day
2AM Music Video
Why I Hate Dating In The Modern World

COME FIND ME
Twitter
Instagram
Ask Jen
Facebook
Patreon
Tumblr
Amazon
Podcast
Spotify
YouTube