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Rex
The snow is falling
on the dawn of our love
I suffer through it, though
you suffer more.

Where do you exist now?
If no longer in the void
of my lost heart,
lost once, when I lost you...

For you, my first words written
now a thousand words
I wish to say, but first
je cherche pour ton visage

Blood I gave first,
then the taste for your thirst
my life was created by you-
now my cards fall away

into silence...


Jennifer Alé
it hurts
Jennifer Ale Oct 24
She's a fragile rose... that can't be opened.
Jennifer Alé
Jennifer Ale Oct 21
My body tells me that you're mine...
my mind doubts that when the sun sets
on the youth of our life, we'll stay...
my heart has no protection,
it doesn't want to bleed again...
As I stare at you,
through the mirror of our lives,
I reflect on the dejected lies
that love has taught us-
yet I long to be deep with you...
all over again.


Jennifer Alé
Jennifer Ale Oct 6
"Oh Aslan..." sighed she.
"I want to lay in your mane of red gold...
will you protect me from the world so cold,
whilst we explore these white lands of old-
behind the doors of my secret wardrobe."


Jennifer Alé
Narnia never stopped existing
Jennifer Ale Oct 5
Green electric messages
buzzed through her head.

"Will I ever make it?" she said.

"Will I make it to a place
where my unrealised dreams do not fade
and disappear, like snow
fighting the sun on a winters day.

Disappear and leave my empty thought-shells
sitting on a couch in the corner of my heart
- so that I feel I need to hug someone
just to restart.

When the fibers of my mind restore,
will my synapses come alive?
Like those little lights
that don the backs of wild firefly
on a summers night...

...and perhaps with all my might
I'll try to push letters out onto a page
to replace what was once there
- a blank space.

Yet, what a waste-"


Jennifer Alé
the woes of writers block
Jennifer Ale Sep 28
Did you enjoy the fire?
The burn that kept you alive,
the wild that made you see
that love lived in her eyes.

We meet again, o' demoted one
at the impasse of our darkest thoughts,
once destined to fly far above-
If only dreams were a metaphor for our love...

You lost her once you said-
now you converse through blank pages
in your head. Trapped by a blessings' curse,
her love was rare, you see... like this verse.


Jennifer Alé
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