Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

Divorce

I was on the pier,

playing my part in filling the ocean,

collapsing under the chaos of home,

bound to return,

but broken at the thought.

For a moment,

for the very first time,

I was alone.

There had never been a voice,

or even a familiar, friendly hand to hold,

just a promise of forever,

golden,

guiding light,

that surrounded me,

until,

it suddenly went out.

My devotion,

deserted,

as I bled into the beach,

begging for the space to breathe,

for believing to be easier,

for just a second.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

Daddy’s Girl

I called God last night,

because,

with everything he has going on,

I figured he’d like an update,

from his messiest,

most dramatic daughter.

“Daddy”

I said,

without a hint of irony,

knowing full well,

that he had watched me give that title,

to another man,

I was willing to worship.

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“Daddy.”

He sighed,

but seemed to do so lovingly,

as if I was a mess,

but one he hated to watch unravel,

because he always wanted more for me,

and though he was frustrated,

watching me walk,

with my eyes closed,

into danger,

on a daily basis,

he was slightly comforted,

that I always came home in one piece (so far).

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“Daddy.”

I whispered,

my voice wavering,

before it was lost,

fumbling to be free from floods and flurries,

overpowered by the sound of my heart,

shattering,

splintering inside me,

when I thought of you.

I cried all night.

He sat on the other end of the phone,

ignoring the world burning in the background,

telling me that time heals everything,

and for everything else,

there is vodka,

telling me that nothing lasts forever,

elation or eruptions of pain,

telling me that one day,

I’d look back and laugh,

and that was when I snapped.

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No longer asking,

but telling.

Begging for relief,

to feel something new,

to forget just one of the things about you,

that keeps me a prisoner,

so I could find myself closer to freedom.

Daddy knew what was in my heart,

but he couldn’t grant my wish,

because praying never worked that way,

not even for his favourite girl,

and sometimes,

suffering is good for the soul,

or at least good for writing material.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

New Poetry and Short Story Collection – In The Garden Of The Free Children

Hola amigos,

I hope you’re having a wonderful Halloween!

You can now check out a brand new collection of short stories and poems, based around my spooky new audio drama In The Garden Of The Free Children.

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If you have not checked out the new drama, you can stream and download it for free, on my podcast, Sincerely, Jennifer x

You can also check out the interactive web experience here

Besos,

J x

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Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

New Podcast Episode Available

Hola amigos,

There is a new podcast episode available, featuring some new poems, as well as discussions about agreeing to disagree on life’s big questions, saving the planet, and making friends with dragons.

You can find the new episode on your favourite podcast provider here, and you can find the episode guide for Sincerely, Jennifer x here.

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Besos,

J x



Read My Books

Hear My Music

Hear My Podcast

RECENT FREE CREATIVE WRITING COLLECTIONS
Sad Girl’s Love Song
Drowning In Us
What Ever Happened To Baby Jen?

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Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Faith

It is 4am,

and once again,

you are camped out,

on the bathroom floor,

as I educate the bubbles

about all that bothers me.

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My hand is held,

as I hold your attention,

with my endless,

anxious monologues.

Hoping aloud,

that my autopsy pics,

will be aesthetically pleasing,

made for morbid moodboards,

in soft sepia shades,

played on YouTube,

with a content warning,

and a cool soundtrack.

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I hope my mother doesn’t cry,

much,

when I am not around to disappoint her.

I have lived in her eyes,

running away in the rushing rivers,

that leave her red and despondent.

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I ask,

aloud,

and shaking,

if you enjoy being in love with a dying girl.

My hand is held,

as is my breath,

and you,

a non believer,

are next to me,

on your knees,

praying to a Goddess who doesn’t know how to be worshipped.

Suddenly,

I feel I could fight death,

for the rest of my life.


Read My Books

Hear My Music

Hear My Podcast

RECENT FREE CREATIVE WRITING COLLECTIONS
Sad Girl’s Love Song
Drowning In Us
What Ever Happened To Baby Jen?

COME FIND ME

Twitter
Soundcloud
Instagram
Ask Jen

Facebook
Patreon

Tumblr
Amazon

Podcast
Spotify

YouTube
Email Me