Posted: June 24, 2018 in me

I’m tired of the secrets. Tonight he told me to kill myself.


Posted: September 23, 2017 in me

I have been buried in the opacity of your being

To be looked in the eye and have creativity and creation explained at me

As if I was not basking in the sunlight of my own words and makings

Long before you forced me into your shadow

To be minimized by you when I was once lauded by others

To take that which YOU have born

Frame it

Display it

And share it with those I love

Only to be repaid in suffocation

And darkness


And indifference

If not criticism

The things I’ve conceived constructed and composed have taken me from lightless places to museums built on art

All of it compulsively involuntary

It, in fact, has actualized who I am

Not conversely

And if you don’t see that

If you miss what I am

If you can exist without any of that

Then I have no idea what you love

Without those things, I am invisible


Posted: July 5, 2017 in me

You glow

A beautiful treacherous light

And I follow you around like an empty headed moth just to scratch the itch of my instinct

And to hopefully



Catch a sprinkle of your warmth and light

I lay in bed with you

Pretending that’s “spending time”

But I’m awake

Looking at you

Doing nothing but existing and breathing a little harder than usual

You’re dreaming

And mine are being altered to something I’m already settling for

I convince myself that being held and kissed are enough

Because wanting is too dangerous

And disappointing

And frustrating

And just leads to more following the rumor of warmth

And the downsizing of the dreams I had

I act like I’m interested

But I’m now so distracted by my fears

And insecurities

And pain that I’m missing what you say

Or your point

(What is your point?)

And I’m wound tight

In the bandages of my costume

And armor

So I’m missing the point of me

Even being here

Or anywhere

I wanted to be consumed

But never considered that meant being chewed

And rolled around teeth

Inside a mouth that was almost to capacity with false promises and lies

And swollen with a bitten tongue

And still I look at your lips

I watch them move

And want to hold them against my own

And your hands that are busying themselves with anything that isn’t me

I want to wear them wrapped around me like a belt

Or a life jacket

To stop me

To slow me down

To hold me

To keep me

So I stop flying from the earth

And myself

But they don’t

And I don’t

And most things don’t

Or won’t

Sometimes,  I think,  can’t

Can’t is much much simpler than won’t

Can’t brings me back to your light

And the madness of supposed understanding

And takes me from the other side of the door where I drop my head and silently whisper to myself

You won’t leave

You can’t leave

You don’t leave

Until I can roll back my tears

And game face

And go back

To where nothing ever happens

Over and over again


Posted: June 13, 2017 in me

I don’t get fired up about the state of the world

See, what I get fired up about is your mouth

And the words it drips and twists and braids into thoughts

Oh and the way you bite your lip when you’re nervous

Or trying to remember a word
I don’t get fired up about all the death and violence

Because I’m trying to find life inside you

When you’re inside me

And I forgot what rest

And self esteem

And puffy clouds on summer days

Felt and looked like

And the way I close my eyes or look away when I’m experiencing that peace and that “piece”
I don’t get worked up about everything ending

Including me

Because I don’t have the luxury of taking things for granted


I only have memories

And hope

And foolishness

And distraction

And insomnia

And insecurity

And wrinkles

And this empty side of my short sighted bed

See,  I don’t  get fired up

Because the world is already burning

And I’m on fire

I’m on fire

I’m on fire….

Weep With Me

Posted: February 1, 2017 in me

Will you weep with me as I mourn myself

As I dry up

And become the thing that is other than my one true given

Will you hold onto me

And love me still

And want me

When I have become valueless

You may say you will

But you do that

Say things

And each word turns breath into the breeze that will blow me away



“Hurt myself again today. And the worst part is there no one else to blame.” -Sia

Cold Side of the Bed

Posted: January 29, 2017 in me

I loved you best when you wanted to fuck me

I wanted you most when you held my hand

I knew you best when you looked me in the eyes

And said my eyebrows looked good

I hated you most when you were lying next to me snoring

While I stared wide eyed at the ceiling

Both hot

And cold

I understood you best when cried while you said you loved me


You were afraid

And now I’m bored

Much too hot

And my heart’s so cold

Hearing and feeling nothing

While you snore peacefully next to me

I’m chaos inside

“By the time you get this message it’s gonna be too late…” -Mariah Carey

Day 15

Posted: January 16, 2017 in me

Not even Noah can’t access the amount of rain needed to wash away the stains of the night. 

Contained in the skies attempt to cleanse my mind, I seek warmth. 

And guarantees. 

And freedom.

Around the world in 16203 days

And it just gets smaller

And more familiar

Without comfort

Only familiarity

Like an angry mother’s slap across the face

It stings

And burns

And makes me wonder when I’ll ever be independent enough

To know

To go

To grow

“You should be used to it by now.” -Telepopmusik

This Could Be Forever Baby

Posted: January 12, 2017 in me

Hypothetically you

Hypothetically me

Sounds pretty pretty

And good in theory

But I’m not imaginary

I’m really really real

Or at least I thought I was

Until recently

Not sure though truthfully

Until I bleedy bleed

And think about what I need

Needy needy

Maybe I’m broken

Hypothetically hopeless

Dark and broody

Sad and moody

Maybe I’m too thin

And forgot how to begin

Or end

Endlessly ending

Always or forever bending

I forget

I think I’m twisted

I think you missed it

Or I did

Maybe it’s us

Maybe it’s you

Maybe I only love what’s new

“This could be forever baby.” – Vince Staples


Posted: January 8, 2017 in me

I have these times of night where I lose my motivation. And my appetite. 

I’m no longer energized with excitement, though still a victim off anticipation. The ever disappointed optimist. That’s probably not how you see me. But I’m often unseen. 

I don’t know if I can be happy anymore. I think I’ve hit that wall. In the waiting room. Covered in dusty couches and breathing in the dust moted air. Stale and whithering. 

Waiting still. And incapable of remembering why I’m even here.

1035 on a Lonely Friday Night

Posted: January 6, 2017 in me

I must admit that I don’t feel like your girl

Or your friend

Or a girl

Or a friend

I feel translucent

And like a ticking clock

Keeping time

For someone else

Not knowing if my time will come

Or if it has already gone


Posted: September 23, 2016 in me

I fear the darkness and the the warmth

Not like a moth to a flame

Like a moth looking upon it’s own dead molted husk

I fear you’ll break me

And leave me to be a dusty remnant of myself

That I’ll be forced to stare at

And never leave

Simply for companionship

So just leave me now

While I still remember what my skin looked like when it was pink

Because I’m too barely unbroken to be broken again

Posted: August 19, 2016 in me

If been afraid to write my words

My words tend to stick

And stay

The things they’re about

Tend to not


I can barely look into your eyes

Or breathe the same air

Things maybe I once knew

But would rather forget

And can’t because they’re written down


Concrete words on feeble pages

Litter my optimism

And smother my hope

I’ve lost my faith in passion

And my confidence in love



Posted: July 10, 2016 in me

I don’t know how to be vulnerable

At least whatever I think vulnerable means

I used to live feeling small

Now it terrifies me

I want to be big

And bold

And  important

And safe

And I do

That’s why I’m scared


I’d Pick You First

Posted: December 7, 2015 in me

Loyalty-a strong feeling of support or allegiance.

I had a weird day yesterday. I couldn’t tell you why, but that whole adage about hindsight… Then it occurred to me. My life is significantly lacking occurrences of loyalty.

One of my standards to inform others of is my desire and appreciation of meeting new people. But sometimes I think I have to. And that’s ALL that I do. And if that internal push were to be taken away, my interactions would be terminally crippled. If I weren’t at a point I was open to that, my solitude would be significantly more solo. If that were even possible.

Lately I’ve felt this deficiency more than usual. I haven’t had a best friend that I physically interact with regularly in over a decade. I haven’t had a boyfriend in over 3 years. These are 2 easy go to structures of relationships that typically ensure regular interaction and higher degrees of loyalty. To a certain extent I’ve closed myself off to those relationships, but not really. What I HAVE closed the door on is emotionally carrying relationships. I’m done poking and prodding and initiating and stalking. It’s my experience those connections work best in even reciprocated measures and doses. It can’t just be one person running a one man show and the other just passively being there by, essentially, not leaving. Like a lifeless mass of DNA just stuck to you, much like those creepy dead conjoined twins. Or a remora.

Healthy relationships should be actively and regularly chosen. One person shouldn’t have to shoulder that like a host to some non-contributing parasite. I don’t want to be constantly needed. I want to be actively chosen. Regularly. Maybe I’m oblivious, and somebody thinks I’m their best friend. (Dear lord I hope nobody thinks I’m their girlfriend.)  But how present can I be in a relationship if I don’t know it exists? I’ve always had this fear and validated feeling that I made relationships up in my head after I’ve walked away from them. That my hope and loyalty was so strong , I missed the total void of it on the other end. And I just can’t be available for that anymore.

What is odd though, is that I continue to be available at all. Falling into the nothingness and void seems so inviting and warm and predictable and comforting sometimes. Yet here I am. Meeting new people. Hoping something will stick. Hoping to be chosen. But not just chosen, kept.

“Always been too scared and unprepared
To let anybody get too close to me

But when I met you right away I knew
You would never ever ever hurt me

And the road’s still long but you come along
And you hold my hand and you understand

When I look at you I can’t believe it’s true
You’re all I ever dreamed of and you love me
And you love me, and you love me” -Kimya Dawson

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle

Posted: November 22, 2015 in me

It’s been a terrifying thing to meet somebody and start down that road that always has only lead to the nothingness.

“When you saw only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried him.”

I have always been the senior contributor to affection, emotion, and momentum. It’s who I am. The mushmaster of mush county. I am loose with my passion. It doesn’t require fire or a spark. It only needs hot whispered breath on the back of my neck. And that’s very misaligned with who I want to be. So I’ve turned into this person who is paralyzed by my fear of self.

I’m quick to label myself a spazz, a wreck, and utterly and completely overwhelming. But, am I? I’ve been told that there will one day exist somebody who can handle me, who will take the fact that I just AM. It won’t be a flaw or a task. That there will be one that can “be still and know that I am Jenny.” But I also kinda need that to be validated. To hear in some way that I’m heard. It’s absorbed and accepted. If only a week in I could scream “VALIDATE ME.”

It was pointed out to me how negatively we are often impacted by being “gas lighted.” (ugh I hate even referencing some pop culture psychology, but it’s accurate) Picture if you will, a vulnerable girl sharing her feels and thoughts of affection and desire and insecurities only to be called crazy or a stalker. And yet, that’s real life. It’s lead me to believe I’ve spent a majority of my time in relationships that the other person, in fact, couldn’t relate. Or chose to respond with emotional obliteration because they were uncomfortable. But I don’t need to analyze them. There’s no point.

I’m so uncomfortable finding the sweet spot that lies between my true self and the girl who refuses to disregard her life lessons. Not in my heart, nor in my head. Audibly. Physically. How do you act like you care about somebody all nonchalant and shit?! And why should I have to?! I’m not responsible for the reactions for others, but I’d rather not be subjected to a caveman response that I’m nuts for feeling. I hate that I have to dip my toe and constantly mind read to take the temperature of another’s comfort level with my brand of intimacy. That any time I may want to say something pure and true, I have to follow that up with some type of disclaimer that my sanity level is normal, I’m just talking. That I mean a bunch of stuff, but it’s meaningless if you get itchy from it.

Doesn’t anyone else want to feel like that? Verbally adored? Spot checked? You are HERE to me, and we are here TOGETHER. What a strange life this is. I just hope that one day I’ll appreciate all of this, instead of feeling foolish. That my means will find an end. That I can be who I need to be, for me, and that is welcome and healthy for somebody being who is also doing their best to be them.

“Trust me when I say that it’s not supposed to be this hard.”