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Nov 2019 · 199
I Haven't
Jenny Moran Nov 2019
I haven't showered in four days
what's the point if I just get ***** again?

I haven't eaten a healthy meal in weeks
what's the point if the weight piles on anyway?

I haven't smiled in three months
that's when I stopped loving me.
Nov 2019 · 714
breathe
Jenny Moran Nov 2019
every day I spend away from you
returns me back to normal
I belong to myself for once

if you're near
everything I've been practicing disappears  
I'm yours again

just let me breathe on my own
and set me free
from your controlling grasp
and your unyielding touch
and let me be me
Nov 2019 · 192
Wake Me Up
Jenny Moran Nov 2019
I canʼt erase the feeling of your lips
Trailing their way up and down my thighs
The way your teeth dig into my hips
The playful smirk while staring in your eyes

My mind still constantly thinks of you
The way you feel pressed against my back
I know Iʼm really not supposed to
But I miss your fingertips dancing around my neck

I donʼt know how you have such a hold on me
I canʼt even control my own thoughts
Itʼs getting harder for me to even see
The if thens and the what nots

Your eyes, they take me to a place
I really think they do.  
No, I think we need some space,
Baby, that's all you.

You laugh, you scream, you cry.
Embarrassed I'm seeing you this way,
You're beautiful with tears in your eyes.
I don't know what else to say.
I’ve been battling all of my emotions through poetry recently, so here are a few :)
Nov 2019 · 423
Behind the Bed
Jenny Moran Nov 2019
it’s a trial you know,
standing by your side.
it’s a test of my strength,
my courage, my pride.
do I want to give up?
give up in us?
what us?
it never existed
it was all in my head
i let myself think there was a
meaning behind the bed.
but you were my demon
sitting deep in the dark
waiting to pounce
waiting for that spark
you took my feelings and shoved them aside
just because you were worried about you
and your pride
I am not significant enough
for you to spend your thoughts on
well yeah, that’s pretty rough
buddy.
Nov 2019 · 253
Everywhere
Jenny Moran Nov 2019
My favorite song isn’t mine anymore
You took it and made it yours
Like you do with everything else.
The beat doesn’t take me to a different place
It just takes me right back to looking at your face.
Every new song I hear, I want to send you it.
*******, stop making me feel like ****.
The street lights flicker through my blinds
Somehow, they used to clear my mind.
Like a studio apartment in the heart of New York City
You once told me.
Your attempt at making me smile
In a time of my darkest trial.
Through change I couldn’t stand,
You came and held my hand.
My own bed doesn’t belong to me
It’s missing a spot where you used to be
The cold side of my pillow doesn’t exist
It’s getting harder to resist.
Every side is cold without you
Boy, what can I do?
I obsessively obsess over you
I’m over it
And you are over it, too.
Why do you lie to me when I cry?
Would it just be easier to say goodbye?
You once said that I looked beautiful in the dark
Bruised my heart with your mark.
Now it cloaks and traps with no trace of escape
I’m becoming desperate to erase
Every thought of you
But I can’t.

You’re everywhere
And nowhere
All at once.
Oct 2018 · 275
Fuel Me, Feed Me
Jenny Moran Oct 2018
I sat down yesterday,
Feeling sorry for myself.
Lamenting in my sorrow,
Figuring out a good way to say
The words that have been swirling
Around in my mind like
The way water revolves around a
Drain.

I sit down now today,
Thinking about the way I cope
I go through other people’s lives
With a keen eye.
Like a detective trying to
Determine a killer with nothing
More than a fleck of dust and a
Motive.

I sat there yesterday,
Trying to determine why my fears
Felt as if they were consuming me.
Like the way the darkness
Envelops you in a cold blanket
When all you need is
Someone to keep you
Warm.

I’m sitting here today,
Wishing for more control
More edge, more confidence.
A will to stand my ground
To accept who I truly am,
A talented, wonderful woman
Who is effortlessly
Beautiful.

I remember the times
That I feel sorry for myself.
They fuel me. Feed my fire.
Fill me with every inch of desire.
To be great. To be successful.
To be me. To be the woman
I know I am, rather than
The girl I pretend to be.
just a little free verse for the night

— The End —