Jenny

Jenny gets settled and opens her book – 
she is quite ready to bring them alive
fairies and unicorns sharing a look – 
who will survive?

nobody cares of her game that is on
you've no idea you all are its part
back there's a soundtrack of lonely trombone, 
playing by heart

handful of whiskey and spoonful of tea – 
searching for balance, and inspo, and muse
finding anxiety to a degree – 
what an excuse

“visit me now!” – she is asking her ghosts,
pleading for stories and begging for words
is it her blessing or her diagnose, 
being a nerd?

it's half past midnight and Jenny's awake – 
how should she end it and what was the plot?
courage embracing her every mistake, 
wound it has brought

wounds, if you knew it, make beautiful maps
words, if you sing them, make wonderful songs
so, past her willing to quit and collapse, 
Jenny feels strong

she feels like singing, if nobody hears
writing, if nobody reads it out loud
winning a battle with being sincere, 
weakened, but proud

Jenny sits down with her blanket on top
tick in a box: introduction is done
nobody ever commands her to stop.
story's begun.