Jenni

Jenni Dec 2017

Untitled

I am a very bad statue
My skin is not that thick
And though I pretend to be marble
I feel every stone and stick

I am a very bad statue
I hate being on display
I beg you, please, don't look at me
I wish you'd go away

I am a very bad statue
I am not a work of art
Sculptures should be neat and smooth
But I don't fit the part

I am a very bad statue
But one thing I've done right
A statue must not ever move
It's a sedentary life
I'm doing nothing
Going nowhere
I live a statue's life

Jenni May 2016

the weekend we drank dos equis cause it was the least expensive

it's noon and I'm already drunk
wandering around atlanta because I've misplaced my wallet
I need my id to prove I'm legal
I hate to spend 10 dollars on a beer
so we chug tall boys in a parking garage thinking,
"how did we get here?"
and nothing feels as good as the approximate size and shape
of a can in my hand
gripping it in the front row with the same intensity
as castaway gripping a raft
lifeline made of aluminum
I'm coughing between sips
there is water in my lungs
I was always afraid of drowning
there's a certain desperation in the way
that I'm trying to pretend I'm comfortable in my own skin
and this can is selling my preferred brand of serenity
"I want to be drunk for this"
in the same way
"I want to be comfortable for this"
I'd tell you it's healthy
but that'd be a lie
but you know what?
I drink cheap beer
so what
*******

Jenni May 2016

maps

you're pretty sure that the veins in your body
look like a roadmap of West Virginia
even though you've only ever seen its welcome center
I mean
that's fair
you're also unfamiliar with yourself
maybe you're just seeing maps in everything around you
because you keep telling yourself that you'll leave
and you're waiting for a sign
those runs in your tights look like highways
the lines on your palms could be exit ramps
and maybe if you pretend these are divine messages
you'll finally get out
because if you don't soon
you might never leave
and in 20 years you'll look in the mirror and think
"what the hell am I doing?"
and your reflection will respond,
simply,
"nothing"

Jenni May 2016

ii

He's the sort of guy
Who would talk to his car
More than his girlfriend
If he had either

He talks to me because he knows this
But I'm pretty sure that's the only reason

I talk to him when I'm tired
Or more likely
Drunk

It's okay
We know this about each other

Jenni Apr 2016

.

i'm living between breaths
and resting between heartbeats
and the rest of the time
i'm nothing at all
and how sick is it
that i look forward to the nights
when i know i'm gonna make myself cry
because even that is better
than feeling nothing at all
self induced breakdowns
because the alternative
isn't living
isn't dying
isn't anything at all
and i'm scratching at my scalp
trying so hard
to ease the crawling sensation
there are things under my skin
but i can never get to them
and it's like ice is in my veins
they way i feel numb all the time
i'm never quite sure this is even real
lapsing in and out of third person
and trying to remember my lines
this movie *****
where's the remote
i'd like to change the channel

Jenni Apr 2016

it's ok

I'm so afraid of getting stuck here
But if you ask me my greatest fear
I'll probably say the ocean

I'm constantly thinking about running away
But if you ask me what's on my mind
I'll probably mention school or work

I feel like I'm suffocating*

I was the one who stayed
I don't get to complain now

Jenni Mar 2016

Night

Night isn't a void
It's possibility

It is the breath before a verse
The undisturbed lines on a sheet of loose leaf
A canvas still the shade of eggshells
Sleeping strings on an old guitar

Night isn't death
It's birth

A glance shared across a room
A tentative smile, a kiss, a touch
The first of many bitter drinks
Meant to wash away the mask of the Day

Night is freedom

You can’t read the rules without a light
And They can’t see you in the dark

Night is bass lines that keep your heart beating

Night is smoke

Night is gasoline and glitter

But above all
Night is the promise of escape
From the pretense of Day

When the sun is your stage light
And the world is your stage