Forever Waiting: A Poem

I dont want you to go
But you do anyway
I want to come with you
But you don’t want me there
I don’t want to be here alone
But here I am
I want to be with you
But you chose others over me
I don’t want to make you feel bad
But why should I feel worthless and lonely?
I want to be with you every second
But I realise thats not possible
I don’t want to feel so alone
But all I do is count the hours til I see you
I want the count to be at zero
But you reset the clock
So I wait


Signed,

Jen X

Passing Comment: A Poem

Authors note: Hey everyone, here is a poem I just wrote. It’s funny because last night I was thinking about how I haven’t written any poetry and that was because I haven’t felt depressed in a little while. I felt surprisingly happy and was glad I hadn’t written any poetry as it seemed like a good sign. But today I haven’t been good. Today has been hard and a conversation I had earlier sparked this poem. I hope you enjoy it.


It was just a passing comment

It was just a nostalgic trip

About how happy your childhood was

About how you look back with fondness

It made my eyes flash with memories

It made my eyes brim with tears

But you didn’t know how I was feeling

But you would never understand even if you did

I hope you know it wasn’t out of jealousy

I hope you know it wasn’t out of spite

Words have such power

Words can take you back

They take you to a place you have fought to escape

They take you to a place you have prayed to forget

It was just a passing comment

It was just

A

Passing

Comment.


Signed,

Jen X

My Anxious Thoughts Before An Interview!

Hello everyone!

I had my first job interview in what feels like years today. I won’t say where but it is a well known company in London.

I am usually very good in an interview setting, although inside I am falling apart until the last minute.

I got to my interview 45 minutes early which is good, but that also meant there’s more time to panic. I have been known to panic so much to the point I turn around and don’t even go to the interview. I build it up to be the most terrifying thing ever. Which in a way, it is.

A lot of my anxiety stems from an intense fear of embarrassing myself or being judged. The issue with interviews is, that’s the point, to be judged.

It was a group interview which makes it even worse.

I decided to use my spare time to write some thoughts down. Some are a bit like poems, others are just quotes.

The main one I wrote again and again was:

It’s okay to be afraid as long as you try.

So that’s what I did. I tried my best and that’s all I could do.

I thought I would share some more of my thoughts here as I found it so helpful to get them out on paper right before taking a deep breath and being the best version of myself possible.


We are all in the same boat

But what if this boat sinks?

Don’t fret it will stay afloat

But what if the winds take us away?

Don’t fret everything will be okay


Familiarity

Differences

Same

Opposite

Breathe

Choke

Can

Can’t

You must

I will


It’s okay to be afraid

It’s okay to want to run

But it’s not okay to give up

You must try your best

It’s all you can do.


People rushing past me

I wonder where they’ve been

Or where they’re going

Their faces a vision of focus

Their eyes glued straight ahead

I steal a look once or twice

But we quickly divert our gaze

We have all been places

We are all going places

But where?

You Sir, are you okay?

Excuse me miss would you like a hand?

I would like very much to understand

How we all live alone in our minds

But we’re never really alone

Everywhere you look there’s people

Happy, sad, depressed or other

Why cant we all be kinder to eachother?

Instead people rush past me

And I can’t help wondering

Who they are


So there’s a little insight into the mind of an introverted anxious interviewee.

Hope you enjoyed!

Signed,

Jen X

Time To Go: A Short Story

I have been here for what seems like one hundred years. The trees have grown unbelievably tall and the cars now require no human intervention. People keep taking pictures of me as they go about their days. Some of them say hello. Most of them walk past without a second glance. I understand though.

Until today, I have never felt the urge to leave this place. I have been quite content with my home and the exotic wildlife who visit me everyday. Today though, I want to leave. I want to see what lies beyond this place. I want to explore and meet new species of birds, other than pigeons and the mutated seagulls that dominate the skies. Today, I believe it is time to go.

My legs ache as I will them to take a step. They refuse. I try for hours to move even the smallest muscle but every joint feels too stiff, it is proving very difficult to leave. Every time somebody passes me, I try to tell them. I try to ask for their help but thus far nobody has offered their services. Somebody is coming my way now. I clear my throat and wait for them to become close enough to talk. It is a little girl, no older than six or seven. Her mother strolls not far behind her. The young girl spots me and runs straight for me. My heart soars as I see her bright eyes studying me.

“Hello Mrs. Hayes” the young girl says to me with a curtsey. Such manners. If I wasn’t already smiling, I would beam with delight. However that joy is soon overshadowed once again when I ask her to help me and we are instead interrupted by the child’s’ mother. Her eyes are studious as she comes closer.

“Lydie, would you like me to take a picture of you next to Mrs. Hayes?” The tall woman says kindly.

“No, she’s asking me for help.” I take in a sharp breath and almost refuse to believe it. This child has heard me. She heard me.

“Yes, yes. Good child and lady, I’m stuck and would like very much to leave this place” I continue, I let my eyes fall upon the woman standing before me, but her eyes are glued to her daughter.

“What are you on about?” She says, her eyes are drowning in worry. “Stop messing around, you’ve seen that before. You know better than to make things up.”

“Didn’t you just hear her? She wants to leave, she’s stuck. Mum we need to he-“

“Enough! Your imagination is too much Lydie. Do you really expect me to believe that?”

The girl walks slowly towards me. I can feel my heart breaking as my eyes fill with tears.

“Look mum, see? She’s crying. You’re horrible mum.” For a moment, the woman looked almost, sad. She took a long look at me and then up at the sky.

“No Lydie. Look. It’s just started to rain. That’s just a statue darling, they can’t speak or cry silly girl” the softening lady says reassuringly “the lady who it’s made to look like died a long time ago, she can’t talk”. She leads her daughter to me and knocks three times on my shoulder. The young girl wrinkles her nose and mimics her mother’s actions. The sound is like an echo chamber, every knock sending more and more ripples of sound that roll through my body. They turn around and in moments they are gone.

They are free to leave while I am imprisoned within this metal cage. It is certainly time to go now.


Let me know what you think of this short story! I have planned countless stories and haven’t finished them. This is something I came up with last night and have basically “pantsed” the entire short.

Hope it proved an interesting read.

Signed,

Jen X

My First Book : An Extract From “Project Delilah”


“The dream began the same as it did every other night. I was standing in my front room, not the fancy one, the normal one. I looked around and every corner of the room was dark. I glanced over to the tall bookcase to my left and it was…Impossibly dark. Like a shade of black that was yet to be discovered. The thought that I was not alone unsettled me, so much so I scrambled around in search of a light source, opening drawers, feeling for a light switch along the walls. There was nothing.


Next, I heard somebody crying. The sound echoed through every room in the house. It was as if a spirit was carrying it through the walls, flying from room to room, seeking me out. I couldn’t let it find me. I looked down and found I was running down a long hallway that seemed to go on forever. The picture frames on the walls taunted me as they kept on coming, no matter how fast I ran. I remember trying to keep my eyes forward but it was impossible. Not when the only face I saw in the thousands of frames, belonged to a girl I thought was my sister. She stared at me as I continued to sprint as fast as I could.

“You’re not real!” I said sternly. “You never existed!”

At last the hallway ended and there stood a large black door. I wanted to turn around and keep on running but instead, I walked straight through the door. Every hair on my body stood up to attention. I didn’t recognise the empty room, but something about it felt uncomfortably familiar. The walls were painted black as well as the ceiling and floor. The furniture then started to appear one by one. First the wardrobe, then a bedside table, a filthy rug and finally a bed. On the bed, sat a heap of dirty duvets, blankets and stained pillows. My eyes then adjusted to the darkness and to my surprise, the blankets seemed to be breathing. I could see the pile rising up and falling back down again; its breaths short and jagged. I blinked hard and let out a quiet sigh I didn’t know I was holding. I could sense the darkness creeping up behind me, as though some kind of evil entity was consuming the room with me still inside.


I tried to call out, but the words refused to leave my lips. Though I did sense the atmosphere shift, as the pile on the bed suddenly froze. Maybe I had spoke after all, maybe it heard me. I took a silent step towards the bed, trying to stay quiet as I approached. I managed a few more steps before a squeaky floorboard cut through the silence; the pile suddenly snapped around and stared straight at me. I was stunned to see that it was not a pile of old duvets, blankets or stained pillows. It was my sister.”

– An unedited extract taken from my current project

This is an extract from my first book, of which I will be referring to as ‘Project Delilah’.

This extract is taken from my main characters book, of which is featured between (almost) every other ‘main story’ chapter. This chapter was written from the perspective of Delilah’s main character, Elodie. (Confusing, I know but all will become clear once the book is complete (I hope!))

I chose to make it harder for myself to essentially write two different stories within one book. However, Delilah’s book is very significant to the plot and I believe it adds a lot to the book in terms of depth and it offers a unique insight into Delilah as a character as well as an author.

The two stories are interconnected and that’s about all I can say about it at the moment!

I hope you enjoyed this little extract and if you have any feed back that would be great. Please bare in mind, I have copy and pasted this directly from my manuscript and it is completely unedited. (Please be nice haha)

Please let me know what you think in the comments. Even if you thought it was boring, or cheesey or clichè. Write out your initial thoughts up on reading it and I shall do a celebratory dance and take it on board.

Thank you in advance.

Signed,

Jen X

Not Yet: A Poem

I want to sleep

But I can’t

I want to dream

But when I do

I feel fleeting hope

But then I am awake once again

I want to live

But I long for the comfortable nothing of death

I want to be happy

But when I smile it feels wrong

I want to sleep

But I can’t

Not yet


Signed,

Jen X