Council Estate Girl

I was born,
and sped to work,
in a British society,
not quite high society,
council estate girl,
lost in the trees,
staring up at stars,
and making plans,
in crayon.

I worked on my grammar,
to get into grammar,
but my grandma always told me,
it was better to shine in the safety of the state,
than to struggle at the top.
My school died as an academy,
starved by those I used to want to be.
I tried to believe that they meant it,
when they said,
with rehearsed and reductive smiles,
that it didn’t matter where I came from.

DOGgbIbWkAAJPm6.jpg

My life is a really long commute,
from my mother to my god.
Traffic jams,
and dandy distractions in between,
choking on air pollution,
born of my own ambition,
and some days,
I still believe,
that I’m rushing towards something,
other than the realisation that I’m not.

 

Work myself to death,
living somewhere in between,
but no matter where I run,
how many of the classics I read,
or how many times I drown my rough accent,
in elocution lessons,
and later in cheap cider,
I am a council estate girl,
lost in the trees.
Scared to climb down,
to the grass of my past,
that glares up, in disappointment at my betrayal,
and the fact I never call.
I am a council estate girl,
terrified,
and ever so dramatic,
disgusted,
by what waits above me,
and the plans I had for them,
created in crayon.


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I Love You

Hola amigos,

Happy Friday! I have a few little updates for you. I’m so grateful for all of your support and kindness to me, and I wanted to show that with a few little things.

Today, you can download Home Wrecker for free on Kindle (you can find the links below) and I am also holding two giveaways, one on Twitter and one on Facebook, where you can win a signed copy of Home Wrecker or The Things We Did Last Summer.

Giveaway Links

Twitter (Closes At Midnight GMT 03.11.17)

Facebook (Closes at 9am GMT 05.11.17)

Home Wrecker Free Download Links

US

UK

Germany

France

Spain

Italy

Netherlands

Japan

Brazil

Canada

Mexico

Australia

India

 

Besos,

J x


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RECENT FREE CREATIVE WRITING COLLECTIONS
Are You Afraid?
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How I wrote “Depression Is Not Real?” from Home Wrecker
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Happy Halloween!

Hola amigos, and happy Halloween!

Below are some brand new halloween poems for you to enjoy, and a link to listen to the extra spooky episode of Sincerely, Jennifer x

I hope you have a spooky and safe Halloween!

Listen to the Halloween episode of the podcast HERE

Besos,

J x


AreyouAfraid-jenniferjuan


Are You Afraid?

Monsters in office,
on iPods, big and small screens.
Are you afraid, love?
Like and subscribe,
vote for them
and they crawl,
from under the bed,
at the dead of night,
through headphones,
slither into DMs,
and touch,
with teeth,
all over their body,
and ours.

Are they ashamed, love?
Only when we speak,
and a publicist shrieks,
that stocks are dropping,
and sales are shocking.
They’re strong and stable,
changing the world,
oh so capable,
until unmasked.
Suddenly, boys,
not men,
but boys,
who couldn’t help,
slight indiscretions,
but please support them,
while they “get better”.

What are we to do, love?
Like and subscribe,
to lifting the voices,
once afraid of being heard.
Send the truth to the top of the charts,
vote for the one who says “I believe you.”
Settle down,
at the cinema,
to watch those who don’t need to be shamed,
to be better.
My name,
is all of yours,
I approve this message.

-x-

The Presence

I’m crazy for you,
and the way you freeze the room,
to tell me, you’re here.

-x-

Basement

As you hold me,
late at night,
when the world is drained,
and distant,
I begin to wonder,
how many days,
you expect me to stay,
tied up in your basement.

-x-

Motherhood

From the second we were together,
I knew you’d be the death of me.
The dreaded double stripe,
and non connecting number,
given by a man I knew I’d never see again,
paled to the way you clawed at my insides.
Though I held you close,
until the day of your escape and ascension,
every second was hell.

I would scream,
for freedom,
release,
death,
and I could hear you,
gurgling and giggling in my guts,
as you sapped my strength,
and prepared to devour the planet.

-x-

Freddy, My Love

On our first date,
I trembled as you drew closer,
my pearls were ice,
against my neck,
as I traced and cherished each letter of your name.
Freddy,
my love,
you haunt my desires,
my hands, possessed,
wander under your dictation,
until I fill my home,
with the name that aches in my mind,
a masterful migraine,
a rapturous roar.
Freddy,
oh,
Freddy,
my love.

-x-

Cupcakes From Damien

He says he loves me,
and nobody could love me more,
and he has left cupcakes,
by the door,
so I can taste his passion.

He says he has baked
the day he first saw me,
and each sleepless night since,
underneath vanilla icing,
and left them at my door.

He says he longs for me,
and he calls every number I have,
an unrepentant bingo bastard,
until I scream that I won’t play,
and I don’t want his cupcakes.

He feeds his fantasies,
but I won’t let him feed me.

-x-

Are YOUR Children In A Cult?

She’s very “Saint Tropez”,
whatever that means.
A vaporwave vixen,
God’s girlfriend,
sending the good word,
through small screens,
and leading the children off a cliff.

-x-

Haunted

I didn’t watch a tape,
hunt for a haunted house,
or stare into a mirror,
while whispering your name,
into the icy night,
and yet,
every night,
you appear.
I lock my windows,
and doors,
pray that my heart will sleep,
as soon as my head hits the pillow,
so I won’t dream of you.

-x-

Bradley’s Girls

Bradley is my boy,
until he wakes up,
opens his eyes,
and falls in love,
all over again,
with everyone he sees.

A one woman man,
with a short attention span,
and a desire,
to keep us in a collection.
All of Bradley’s girls,
live in his heart,
and are a mangled mess at the back of his wardrobe.

-x-

Babydoll

Baby,
pay attention to me,
or you’ll see what I can do,
when you make me mad,
daddy,
when you make me blue.

You told your phone to forget,
the naughty nights,
away from home,
but Babydoll,
has a memory you don’t control,
and she’s still waiting.

Baby,
you better call me back,
or you’ll see what I can do,
when you make me mad,
daddy,
when you make me blue.

You ask Babydoll “forget”,
she shakes her head.
building a plan,
is Babydoll,
to punish the one who broke her heart.
Soothed by her seething.

Baby,
give me what I want,
or you’ll see what I can do,
when you make me mad,
daddy,
when you make me blue.

You beg back home, “forgive”,
maybe she will,
maybe she won’t,
but Babydoll,
isn’t in that mood, she wants to play.
Are you playing?

Baby,
I told you we’re not through.
now you’ll see what I can do,
when you make me mad,
daddy,
when you make me blue.

-x-

Heart

I went to New Orleans,
with you,
in my mind.
I had never felt such desire,
as when my eyes,
desperately draped themselves all over you,
and I knew,
you had my heart.

I drank your hair,
my blood,
and the light of the moon,
as the voices of the universe,
shook the ground,
until it pushed us together,
and I knew,
you had my heart.

You couldn’t resist dark, desperate passion,
that had been given wings,
and teeth, by a woman who warned me away.
My love circled your head,
and pecked until I could sit inside,
and I knew,
I had your heart.

When I was through,
crawling from your brain,
to do the walk of shame,
you clung to me,
and offered me a reason to stay.
Your lungs,
leaked through a hole,
in your chest,
but I couldn’t say yes,
though I knew,
I had your heart.

-x-

April Jane, And The Curious Case Of The Disappearing Dad

Screams at night,
that I first suspected,
came from the dolls,
at the end of my bed.

Fearless,
I scolded them.
“Don’t wake the neighbours.”
Back to sleep, I went.

Until more screams,
the dolls shrugged and wept,
as I rose from my bed,
and placed my ear to the door.

“HOW MANY?”
“I DON’T KNOW.”
“I’M CALLING THE POLICE.”
“I CAN’T LET YOU GO.”

A thud,
more weeping from the dolls,
and mother too,
I go back to sleep.

The next day,
dad went away,
to join Mum’s other friends.
I left flowers for him.

-x-

Dining At The End Of The World

We were so sweet,
hands clasped,
as we strolled
to the end of the world.

To run felt futile,
when I was happy,
to fade from life’s sky,
for the girl,
with a smile that all the stars envied.

You didn’t need to say a word,
I saw, before, when we ran,
the way the madness clamped it’s jaw,
around your dainty ankle,
and roared “No more.”

We strolled,
you hobbled,
to the end of the world,
where the madness took you,
and then, me,
ever so willingly.

We were so sweet,
when we ate each other whole,
dining at the end of the world,
with candles by our side,
and each other’s calves,
between our teeth.


Order “Stormy Weather” here

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Listen to”Past Preston” here

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The Game

Fifteen.
Nervous,
naive,
knee length skirt.
At a desk,
next to a boy I’d spoken to,
maybe once or twice.

Then he is joined,
by a friend I’ve never met,
and they engage,
in a game,
he normally saves,
for just before bed.
I try to look away,
but he tells me to look.

They tell me I am playing,
and reach for the woman
who lives where I do not dare to share.
She is sleeping,
and doesn’t know the rules.
They grab her from her cotton castle,
and I am in the game,
bound to lose.

We are both frozen,
unable to run,
afraid of what we’ve done,
or haven’t,
to be more accurate,
and when the boys are done,
we are numb,
and full of questions,
that we will never ask.

We will never play again,
we are not sure if we even did,
or if we were just sat,
a lone, broken battleship,
at the mercy of invasion,
from a boy “just being a boy”.


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Kneeling In The Garden

Deep under dirt,

I grow,

audacious,

ferocious,

fed by rain,

you sought to deny me,

formally segregated sprinkles.

gettyimages-603553684.jpg

I will grow,

and glow,

under my moonlight,

and bloom,

in the morning,

to kneel,

with all the other flowers,

you denied the right to exist,

in your garden.


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How I wrote “Depression Is Not Real?” from Home Wrecker

Today is World Mental Health Day, and so I decided to give you a little insight into how I created one of the most personal poems in my latest book, “Depression Is Not Real?” from Home Wrecker.

Firstly, I had to acknowledge that depression is in fact real. It isn’t that I had doubted that, I was well aware of it being a real thing, I just didn’t think it was a real thing for me. When I was twenty two, I was at one of the lowest points in my life (so far). I had lost people close to me, I had just broken up with my fiance, my wrestling career had gone to shit before it had even really got going, I couldn’t find a job, and I felt worthless. My very first published book, Tiffany, Pls (sorry Stormy Weather) had been a commercial failure, because I’d yet to learn about marketing, and wasn’t ready at all to be releasing things. Also, it wasn’t exactly my best work, and arguably made little to no sense, but in my defence, I wrote most of it at a point in my life when I was drunk a lot and watching my entire world fall apart, so, you know.

On the bright side, during this time, I got to feel the lovely arms of my muffin, William Regal, around me, and I wrote “Glasgow Caledonian” from “Last Of The Greenwich Glamour Girls”, during a very quick but eventful trip to Glasgow, so it wasn’t ALL bad.

I felt like nothing was going right for me, but I still tried to keep it upbeat, insisting that this was just the really shit part at the beginning of my story before I went on to bigger and better things (it turns out that I was right, but this isn’t the point…).

10491203_10204227981279874_2155538529861439421_n

Smiling in a picture is also very off brand for me anyway, so that’s a real indicator that the happiness in this picture is fake. I was desperately trying to pretend everything was good, because I didn’t know what else to do.

I later found a job, and things in my life did start to improve, but I still felt just as low, if not worse than before, and it wouldn’t go away. I would have long periods of time when I wouldn’t want to eat, or get out of bed. I would have moments where I genuinely thought I’d be better off dead. I’d have days where I would replay my life over and over, crying and wishing things could be different, staring at my reflection for hours on end, hating what I saw, and thinking everyone else hated me too.

I stayed in denial for quite some time, as if it was some kind of comfy blanket, because even though deep down, I knew I needed help, admitting that felt like I was just finding another thing that was wrong with me.

After many arguments, conflicts and so on with my family, they basically staged an intervention of sorts and insisted that I had to get help. I was mad as hell at the time, but it was the right thing to do.

13731445_10206970759207608_894484859017608079_n

If they hadn’t intervened, this photo wouldn’t exist, and I never would have got to stand at the top of Blackpool Tower, feeling my model fantasy, because I probably would have died. Like not to be dramatic, but I honestly probably would have.

I made an appointment with the doctor, and it was an awkward affair. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say, and I felt like I was coming across as one of those “whiney snowflake millennials” you read about in angry right wing newspapers, even though I’d always thought those articles were stupid. It’s funny, because I’m no stranger to mental health. Many people in my life have struggled with it, and I had no problem helping and supporting them, but the idea of it being something I now needed help with was very difficult to comprehend. I have always been someone who likes to do things themselves, and am quite independent and private, so suddenly having to let other people in and let them help me freaked me the fuck out.

I started a course of anti depressants, which didn’t do much for me, but I also started a CBT course that was very helpful (once I got past my hang ups about talking to strangers), and I was able to rationalise a lot of my fears, anxieties, and a lot of the things I’d been unable to process before, while also finding new ways to deal with my thoughts and feelings.

This was all, of course, quite a while ago, and while I do have moments of struggle every now and again, I am doing a lot better. I was inspired to write “Depression Is Not Real?”, not just by my own experiences, but by the constant shouting of “Depression isn’t real!” by people who tend to have very little experience of it. I know it’s a cliche, but to be honest, if you haven’t experienced it, it is hard to understand. Even I, as someone who had been around people who had dealt with depression for almost my whole life, found it very hard to truly understand it until I was in the situation, and even during that, I was confused as hell. I wanted to try and create something that explained my personal journey with depression, and how it felt for me, to try and explain the harsh realities of it, for those who simply refuse to believe it’s a real thing.

I began, as I often do, with a stream of consciousness. This is one of my favourite things to do when writing, as it allows me to draw out all the things I associate with a subject, and gives me a great starting point. It was quite a personal thing, so it was difficult to get everything together, but quite cathartic as well. I decided to personify depression, as personification is one of my favourite literary devices, but it also helped demonstrate how I felt. Sometimes, when I looked at myself, I saw another person, it was kind of like me, but like, a mirror universe version. Sometimes, the entire thing felt like self sabotage. My mind wanted me to be fulfilled, and happy, but it prevented that. That may not be the facts, I’m not a scientist, but that’s how it felt at the time.

Once I had a basic outline of the kind of themes and language I was looking to use, I started trying to edit down what I had, so that it was vaguely usable, and several edits later, I had the final product.

dinr.png

The final product.

Me as a final product? I’m doing okay. I have good days, I have bad days. I’m more open about my feelings, and it helps me to handle them better. When I say that I’m grateful for the support of my followers on social media, here on my blog, or anywhere else y’all like to hang out, I really mean it. Not just because your support enables me to do what I love, but also because when I was sitting in my room, staring at the walls and wishing I was dead, I never imagined that one day, I would have a community of friends to share my life with. Thank you, and please, today, and every day, look after yourself.

Besos,

J x


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The Kidnapped Prince Of Iceland

Awoken from Iceland,

I sigh.

Fly high,

for breakfast,

before staring,

aimlessly,

at shameless tourists.

Beat up the windows,

Ask me to dance.

I will not dance.

Tilikum_(orca)_(Shamu).jpg

I’m so far away,

and they push pills in me,

and starve me out,

to bring me closer.

I lay still,

where nobody can see,

surrounded by tortured strangers,

that have become family.

I will not dance.

Bottom of the pool,

waiting for Iceland.

I will not dance for you,

in your cheap, chlorine hell.

My body belongs to the sea.


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Love Lessons

His brow furrowed,

as his eyes,

that had seen and collected,

the wonders of the world,

fell to the floor.

He asked me,

why I wanted him.

 

 

 

I took the hands,

that had spent more nights,

alive and exploring,

than I had had days on the earth.

I told him,

that I wanted someone,

who knew how to love me.

 

 

 

He has loved me,

with tenderness,

with curiosity,

with ferocious passion,

that he thought he had lost,

and I know,

nobody else could love me,

the way he taught me I deserve.


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Women Who Work (Really Hard At Pretending To Be Allies)

She tapped on a screen,
as if it meant the same,
as standing with the brave,
and using her freedom,
to free them.

I am proud
I will say I am proud
to support my LGBTQ friends and the LGBTQ Americans
of the LGBTQ Americans my Dad targets
who have made immense contributions to our society and economy.
so they can’t point out my cowardice,
in the face of their bravery.

I will say I am proud,
of the LBGTQ Americans my Dad targets,
so they can’t point out my cowardice,
in the face of their bravery.

She tapped on a screen,
and typed everything,
a publicist told her,
and it meant nothing.


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Stormy Weather

Hola amigos!

I hope you are coping with this heatwave better than I am…

I just wanted to check in and let you know about a few updates.

Firstly, you can now preorder my upcoming release here and it will be released on the 30th of June.

Secondly, if you sign up to my Patreon, you’ll receive a free ebook copy on the 30th of June.

Thirdly, you can now enter my tumblr giveaway by clicking here.

Besos,

J x

Monster Truck

Sixty seven year old strange man,

in my room.

knelt by my womb,

trying to crawl inside,

as if I am a monster truck,

and there are tools

to destroy the city,

to save some cells,

and keep me in one,

if I resist.

My sister has come,

from England,

screams,

for the future, of her green and pleasant land,

but my present is her past,

as the sixty seven year old strange man,

steers me through the streets,

and Arlene sneers at my shame,

before going back to her well heated scandals.

I am not a slut.

I am not an incubator.

I am not a slave.

I am not asleep,

but every woman,

in her proud, painful shirt,

screams,

“This is what a feminist looks like”,

without looking my way.



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If I Could

The magic was in my head,

like the heaven of your heart,

that I thought belonged to me.

My woollen waiting,

unrewarded,

at another station,

in another stand off,

between my head,

my heart,

and my hurt.

Will I ever know,

why you,

unfashionable, irresistible love,

were unfashionably late,

and out of my reach,

and out of my life,

and out of my league?

If I could,

would I want to?

The mystery of you,

haunts my heart.


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Summer is on the way :)

Hola Amigos,

I hope you’re doing well. I’m so excited for summer, so below are some things I wrote, with a bit of a summery theme, to take my mind of all the rain here in England!

I hope you like them 🙂

Besos,

J x


IMG_2609

Baby Blue
Corpse Candy
Summer Of Love
Paraíso
The Importance Of Being Earnestly Yours
My Best Friend’s Baby
Forget You Nots
Never Say Die
Everything That Mattered
This Is Love
Birthmark


Baby Blue

Knife to my armbands,
lost in the lake of your love.
I rise as I fall.

Oh my baby blue,
I’m just drowning in your charms.
I live as you breathe.

-x-

Corpse Candy

My neurology is nasty,
and I’m taken by tremors,
as I’m tempted by your taste.
You’re the sweetest
sour faced sod I’ve ever known,
and I’ll pick your brain,
from your handsome head,
and save it for last,
so kuru carries me to the dreams of death,
and I can dine on you for a life time.
-x-

Summer Of Love

You, like the sun,
were blinding, ever present,
and as essential to me,
as you were stunning.

You stayed on my mind,
like a stone in my shoe,
but when I threw you to the ground,
you took my whole leg with you.

I glued you back, and we glided all summer,
Honda rides in the heat,
and an hour’s sleep if we could stand it.
I couldn’t stand not standing by you,
though I knew you’d break my heart,
I covered it up with candy floss,
as we found our way to the fair.

-x-

Paraíso

We paved the path to Paraíso,
with everyday extravagance,
you can’t find in a store.

One night with you,
and the lights our taxes pay for,
feels ethereal,
and the way I feel,
for you,
is scribbled on a tram shelter,
where we hide from the winds,
of a world that can’t stand us.

We work all week,
for Netflix, and negotiation,
of how much of the covers,
you can spare,
and how much of me,
I’ll share.

-x-

The Importance Of Being Earnestly Yours

I fell from the sky,
and my mission was my parachute.
How could my life end,
on arrival,
when I was born to be yours?

I tore off my past,
and my preset settings,
and didn’t hold my breath,
as I drowned in a fresh coat of paint,
to be yours.

Earnestly,
sincerely,
irrevocably.
I have spent so long,
building your dream,
that I’ve forgotten what mine was.

-x-

My Best Friend’s Baby

You mean less,
than you’d like,
and I like you,
more than I mean to.
If only I could
strip me
of the spell
you’ve dressed me in.

Sometimes,
you are behind me,
enveloping my waist,
and rationing my breath.
Every dandelion,
star,
birthday candle,
and evening hopeful countdown,
belongs to you,
though you belong to her.
I would wait
for the rest of my days,
to belong
to my best friend’s baby.

-x-

Forget You Nots

So many Septembers,
after our sordid summers,
each as precious,
and tempestuous,
and close to my heart,
as the last.

I kissed your lips,
a thousand times,
and you made me cry,
a million,
and I have cherished a billion smiles,
from the lips I loved.

I’ll forget a lot,
in my final days,
as I tend my forget-me-nots,
but you’ll follow me forever,
I’ll be happily haunted,
by the boy I couldn’t forget.

-x-

Never Say Die

Gee, it’s too bad,
you’ve found somebody new.
I hope you never leave.
The birds don’t sing for her,
and the stars stay,
surrounding where we used to lay.

Never sunrise,
I forgot the beauty of a starting day.
I hope you never stay.
Ours were born at ten AM,
Wine gums and strawberry shake,
brunch for the beaten down and broken up.

Does she tire
of the way you talk?
(Maybe I did?)
I hope you never say.
You’d repeat the same generic words,
and I’d smile real symmetrical.
You’ve kept walking,
but I’m the girl in a galaxy.

-x-

Everything That Mattered

My last words to you,
throb in my throat,
scratching and crawling,
to escape,
to reach you one last time.

I’m surrounded by suffocation,
and the ground is lava,
so I’ll leap into your arms,
and pretend we never parted,
then I’ll fall to the floor,
unable to reach the arms,
I’ll miss forever.

-x-

This Is Love

You remain unchanged,
I exist as fire.
I will burn.
I will roar.

You remain unswayed,
I exist as ice.
I will melt,
I will run.

You remain ashamed,
I exist as heart.
I will love,
we will love.

-x-

Birthmark

You are painted on my skin,
a mystery since my arrival,
that I’ve never solved,
but often trace,
when I’m alone.

White feathers weight,
on my weathered soul,
and I follow their path,
through the forest fire,
you’ve ignited in my heart.

I thought I’d been yours,
since I was sixteen,
broken down as you didn’t look my way,
cradled with Carl Wilson,
singing “God Only Knows”,
as I realised I always did.

-x-