Jennifer Cypert
A lover of all the impossibles if only they are in my head.
Worlds Apart
I hate it that you think that you know me When in reality you really don't. You don't know the world that I live in Because you choose not to understand
Jennifer CypertPublished 2 years ago in Poets
Banging of the Doors of Heaven
Four, five,six, seven, eight. The eighth floor was eerily dark, since it was to be a new wing and on a weekend. Construction workers wouldn't be there until Monday. I walked by one of the first rooms. It was pitch black. Creepy chills ran up my spine.
Jennifer CypertPublished 2 years ago in Filthy
The Eighth Floor
I am standing in a morning a daze as my supervisor buzzes on. I just want to get to my floor so I can start my day, but she takes her time wasting it for the rest of us that have rooms to clean. "We have families to feed, why doesn't she just shut up?!" I think, refraining from rolling my eyes or shaking my head in exasperation. Finally, I hear my name being called.
Jennifer CypertPublished 2 years ago in Filthy
Vincent
Droplets of something sweet fall on my lips. It was the blood of someone not from this land, but from afar, almost flowery, like chamomile. I wake up looking to see Vincent standing over me with someone's neck above my face. I pull it to me, too weak to raise up. It was a woman. Her soft, black hair fell on top of me, covering my face. Aromatic waves of lavender and honey hit my nose. I breathed her in like the best cocaine a drug lord kept for himself.
Jennifer CypertPublished 2 years ago in Filthy
Vincent
We stayed in the shower for hours, fucking, kissing, biting, growling, cumming. Our bodies wrapped together in gravity defying acrobatics, never tiring. The one thing that made us stop was our will, yet, even that was hard to tame.
Jennifer CypertPublished 2 years ago in Filthy
Bastard Prayer
Bastard Prayer I don’t know when it was Or why it happened But I hope that someday I will cross your mind I hope that I am a constant thought
Jennifer CypertPublished 2 years ago in Poets
Vincent
"Will I still get to see my family?" I ask, tears in my eyes, suddenly aware of the notion of never seeing them again. "Of course you can. I am a vampire, not a monster," Vincent replied, reassuringly, putting a hand on my shoulder.
Jennifer CypertPublished 2 years ago in Filthy
Vincent
The bedside clock says Saturday, August 16, 8:00 AM. Saturday! How the hell is it Saturday?! I realize where I am. The massive bed, naked... I'm still at Vincent's penthouse! I look for my clothes in the pile only to realize that the pile is gone. The door opens. It's Vincent, hot, debonair, dawned in black silk pajama pants and nothing else. All I want to do is get back in bed with him. I shake the thought out of my head.
Jennifer CypertPublished 2 years ago in Filthy
