Jennifer Pickering

Category: Poetry

  • Countdown…

    The seconds move slowly, drifting from the screen. Time is endless now. Each word is thought out, given meaning. The seconds move faster now, quickening, each second dispersing as I attempt to find direction. Was this a waste of seconds? Or this? Or this? Or all that came before? I have no time to worry…

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  • Blurred Vision

    Blurred vision, drums still beating, the shattered break further, the heart Weakened. Words disappearing, wonders lost, Our silhouettes stain, Our shadows disperse. Our life is over, it rips itself free, to pour havoc on crumbled shells. The bright is blinding, sweet air suffocating. The fragments realign. The falls freeze. The cocoon is ripping, the life…

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  • “I can’t write…” and my new tattoos!

    I can’t write what I mean because the words are absent. I begin, I try, I falter, I stop. I press backspace again and again and finally I close the page until tomorrow. Or the next day… Or the next… Or until I get so far away from my last attempt that I forget that…

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  • Transparent or -lucent…

    As I sit in the bleak, Feel obsolete, Transparent. Or -lucent? A burden Or Nuisance. Is it my voice I’m hearing? Without any clearing To escape this mentality Return to humanity, Remember my mortality, And fight for morality. Thoughts up for eviction, I say with conviction, This is my distinction, To protect my own extinction,…

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  • I and You

    I couldn’t breathe today. I couldn’t breathe because your fingers were around my chest and each breath drew them tighter. Each frantic movement of my collapsing cage encased me deeper. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t speak today. I couldn’t speak because you slithered your way down my tongue and played with my vocal chords, knotting…

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  • It’s all in my head

    It’s all in my head. It’s all in my head. But that doesn’t mean it’s something not real, It’s something I feel. I feel it everyday This unrelenting pain. Trapped in constant strain, It’s all in my head. You can’t see, What’s inside of my head, Inside of me. You can’t tell me that what I…

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  • Y.

    Is this me? My identity? My I D E N T I T then Y do I feel so lost? Should I traverse the wilderness? Find myself in the ruins of the past? Escape to the edges of the earth? Will that help me find myself? Or something else? Is this me? Should I be…

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  • Upon the Crimson Wings

    Upon the crimson wings it flies, it dips, it dives, it falls. Collapsing to the trampled earth, away from distant calls. This is the tale of a life once lived, of a laugh which chortled, of lips which whispered the harmony of love, of eyes which searched for truth and of infantile hands which held…

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  • *

    Cracked out, broken, forgotten. Intolerable silence. As we choke on exhaust fumes, exhausted from each other’s existence, pleading to closed off ears for a chance at redemption. Two frozen hearts floating in an endless void of emotional toil and heartbreak. Our thickened blood, black with tar, clogging our extremities but forgetting our most vital organ,…

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  • Clearing My Head…

    Mown lawns, A grass filled crater, An abandoned stone gazebo, Cracked path, Busy streets beneath me. Signs of life to remind me I am not alone.   My mind wanders beside me, Ticking through your history. The fort stood tall on its hilly fortress; The sunken patch, A reminder left from war; School children learning…

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