Jenna Jones

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18 has never felt so old.)

The Best Poem Of Jenna Jones

Bombshell

Pretty girls with sad, sad eyes.
Pretty girls with too thin wrists and itsy bitsy waists.

Tiny whispers saying “I’m okay” “I’m okay”.
Excuses, excuses fall from their lips and hunger pains eat them away.

Little dotted red lines across their skin, just enough to breathe, not die.
Toilet bowls filled with self-hatred and disappointment, promising not to do it again.

Pretty pretty pills of all colors take them with her friend jack to forget at least for the night.
Pretty pretty numbers not low enough never low enough, she can still grab her skin tells herself no meals for a week then.

Pretty pretty girls with sad, sad eyes, too skinny slit wrists and tiny waists.
Their self-destructive tendencies make them waste away.

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