Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Compeyson

Too late to love you,

through the aching annex,

where your hollow heart sleeps,

with nightmares of me.

Twenty to nine,

twenty to nine,

twenty to nine.

You’ll never be mine.

The world on the shoulders,

of the white wishes you wore.

I could kiss apologies,

on the long dead lips,

soothe the scorched skin,

our world back in motion.

Twenty to nine,

ten to nine,

nine.

You are mine.

The world shared between us,

and your wishes, my goals.

Yet darling, desperate, dismal girl,

I’m simply not inclined.


RECENT CREATIVE WRITING COLLECTIONS
Amor, Amor
Always The Mistress, Never The Mrs

What Do Little Girls Dream Of?


RECENT UPCOMING COLLECTION PREVIEWS
“Baby Back There” from Ours
“Window Shop” from Ours

“Beach Walk” from Ours

RECENT BLOGS
Things About Rings
Tis The Season To Be Bad At Wrapping Presents🙂
 
Lipsticks I Love

COME FIND ME
Twitter
Instagram
Ask Jen
Facebook
Patreon
Tumblr