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Routine
Every morning, I lay in bed, with my eyes sewn shut, summoning some more sleep, seeking the delightful delusion, that you are beside me, in the kind moments between sleep and death, where I am not awake enough, to send my dreams away. When you are gone, entirely, my eyes are open, and I begin…
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Evicted
I think of your arms, the place I still call my home. How much is her rent?
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Death For Pleasure
Do you shiver, when you recall death? We have all died, many times, but it passes by, like ever constant eyes, blinking, watching, gloom filled continuing, because nothing was ever fair or true. Astral accounts can never be real, forsaken by the mortal realm, toasting to ghosts, with champagne, tasteless and full of thirst, circling…
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Confessions Of A Self Aware Manic Pixie Dream Girl
Recharging over night, I awake beside you, with bright eyes, slight sassy retorts, when you ask me how I slept, because we both know, I probably didn’t. I read tarot, while you dress, write poems, while you cook breakfast, and I never stop rotating between a routine of smiling and pouting, in a way that…
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Nobody Makes It Out Alive
The rain outside is sympathetic, pressing against the window, in an attempt to make me feel less alone, but she just shines a light, on the empty side of the bed, unread messages, tear stained pages of my diary. The rain tries her best, and for a moment, we are the same, I press my…
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Sincerely, Jennifer x 