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Blossoms
Blossoms in winter, because nothing makes much sense, in our crazy world.
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Living
Thank you for giving, giving up, setting me free. I’m growing. Living.
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An Open Letter To Male Poets
Hello clever man, who towers, only in height, and has the same syndrome as boys who buy big cars. There’s something you should know. I’ll say it slow, so I don’t get overwhelmed, because you know we women are not complex, so quiet, so one dimensional, (feel free to mention all the books you’ve read,…
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I Wrote This When We Were Fighting
I won’t compromise my heart again, because nobody can know all the answers, for the questions everybody asks, and why do I have to say anything, or do anything, at this point? All I’ll have when I die, are the thoughts I found, inside a hyperactive head, and what I did with them. Like the…
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Regrettably
This summer, I might go where the sunshine lives. Palm trees, no memories, no ties, no heartbreak to run away from. I thought I might try drugs once, but they tore up everyone I knew, and you know I’m not ready to be an obituary, despite the days where I’m melancholy. I want to survive…
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Sincerely, Jennifer x 