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Lost Girls In Lorries
Screams are plastered on the walls, like her blood, his spit, his handprints, on her face, raging and red. Nobody hears, because nobody listens, and nobody looks for girls like her, in the dark, dingy night. Shut up. It wasn’t meant to be like this. Take your clothes off. Nobody told her it would be…
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Postcards From The Calais Jungle
A choice between dictatorship or destitution, was never really a choice, just a cycle, that catches hold of you, unfolds until it covers the ground, swelling into the sky, swarming your soul. You know there’s nothing left behind you, no real peace on the path you follow, but you walk anyway. Death, your constant companion,…
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Sincerely, Jennifer x 