Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Oct 2013 · 570
My Lover's Dead
Jenna Oct 2013
My lover's dead
and I like him better that way.
When he was by my side,
I did not know what to say
as my heart was always
in a horrid, constant state
of incomprehensible joy,
my emotions so great,
they overtook my mind,
and all I could do
was let myself be loved
and sigh graciously in lieu.

My lover's dead,
but he still haunts my mind.
He hides silently, waiting
in every place I can find,
pulling me to him
with invisible strings
so he can entrap me in the felicity
that young love brings.
But I am tired, so tired,
of being in love,
of the pain that overtakes me
when I am floating above
in blessed happiness,
with him as my wings
waiting to fall,
because love is a capricious thing.
Sep 2013 · 602
She had a soul of gold.
Jenna Sep 2013
The yellow bird in its golden cage sings
to me, in the depths of the night, while I
raise my palm to my lips and kiss
it, pretending I were loved;
though my sorry heart knows I am
not, and the flightless canary does too--
its singing metamorphs into wailing as
the amber stars sink in the sky.
The darkness nibbles
on their ivory light, and my warmth
subsides to ice.
And still he did not love her.
Sep 2013 · 448
like Esther.
Jenna Sep 2013
The fig tree shrivels and bends under my weight.
My fingers move nimbly, but not enough --
for the branches I cling to are no more than ash,
and the gold in my pockets turn into stone.
My hands bare, scraped ******,
burnt red, cinder black.
The ground embraces me
like an old
friend.
Sep 2013 · 474
"the pure gold baby"
Jenna Sep 2013
beautiful boy
with your magical hands
you leave trails of gold
on the surfaces you skim
let me be
so blessed to be
caressed by your enchanted fingers.
Aug 2013 · 375
for you, lover.
Jenna Aug 2013
I've felt worse
than the misery you lay
with your hands.
so come to me,
dark angel,
envelop me
in tenderness.
go, catch
my skin on fire
I swear I've felt worse.
Aug 2013 · 432
burn.
Jenna Aug 2013
If the sun were to somehow collide
magnificently
with the Earth,
as if propelled by some
unseen, unstoppable force
of formidable gravity, I wouldn't
care.
I would burn, along
with everyone else,
my ashes mixing
and diffusing with theirs.
I would feel
heat,
become
heat.
The warmth would swallow
me, or I
would swallow it,
and the flames would travel
through my veins
and down my spine
and trickle to my toes
and let me feel.
Aug 2013 · 421
Kill the me-and-you
Jenna Aug 2013
There are times when I love you
and times when I wish
that the hands of fate
could sever and incinerate
the string that wraps
around both our hearts.
Aug 2013 · 481
Bitter ruins.
Jenna Aug 2013
there was this time in the park
a frosted, gray-misted November
me, myself
on the brown benches

my head seemed forever tilted
to the right
my head didn't know
but my heart knew

I was looking for a yellow spark
hidden in the crowd of wispy passerbys

I was waiting

for you.

it seems silly when i think about it
when I pause and force
my body to stop, halt
freeze, think rationally
it's terrible to be the only one
who leaves their entrails everywhere
nothing will come out
when I squeeze my heart anymore

I have this amazing way
of hurting myself
more than I need to be hurt
Aug 2013 · 546
with your warm hands
Jenna Aug 2013
the birds sing from my backyard
and the morning sun hits my window at an angle,
effusing its gold-tinted rays into the glowing room

i dig deeper for the warmth
beneath the bed covers.

moments like these, i think of you.
Aug 2013 · 528
primera.
Jenna Aug 2013
I know what it means now
to love;
it kind of emanates from the core
somehow, somewhere
and makes my heart feel heavy,
but also warm, blown-up,
like it's expanded enough just so
that it hugs the insides of my rib cage gently.
Aug 2013 · 988
rant
Jenna Aug 2013
you know that feeling where you don't want to get out of bed
you don't want to open up your blinds and see the world pour in through the sun's rays
because you know deep down it wouldn't make you happy anyway
you have nothing to look forward to
nothing to smile for

that is how i feel every day these days
and i wonder when it will go away

everywhere i turn
i am disgusted
my life seems to but nothing more than
a collection of disappointment and lies
soon enough it will drive me
off the edge
and i know i will go crazy
there-is-no-turning-back crazy
just like esther in the bell jar
that's what i think
that's why i sympathize and empathize with her
she is just like me
a person muffled and choked
by customs and expectations
Jan 2013 · 328
Untitled
Jenna Jan 2013
I write poems,
not English essays.
period.
Jan 2013 · 418
how many times
Jenna Jan 2013
rupturing; that's what I feel
slashing, tearing, scratching
as if my bones have not been cracked enough times
as if my heart is still short of crooked, broken veins
and bruised, dimpled indentations

because my blood really does need
to break through arteries
and spread from the inside--doesn't it?
otherwise, I might not be alive.
Jan 2013 · 575
8 in the morning
Jenna Jan 2013
I like the things you say in bed the best
words that caress against skin like your finger grazes
sweet nothings that escape from your reckless mouth
when you are still drowsy from the veil of sleep
Jan 2013 · 603
A Trench for Me
Jenna Jan 2013
Deep beneath dirt is where I would like to be
perhaps then, under rock, no one would find me
and my body would be left to decay not from hurt but debri
and you, my pain giver, I would not see
but I think, all the same, that eventually
I would crave you and want to dig myself free
Jan 2013 · 339
Just a thought
Jenna Jan 2013
Maybe if I bite my lips ******
and claw at my skin
then walk on the street naked,
you'll speak to me.

— The End —