Delirious 

Demented with excitement

Ever driving a mind wild.

Lucid hallucinations

Insanity truly styled.

Raving like a lunatic

In mania it’s free

Of restraint. A bold

Use of creativity.

Such enjoyable madness.
.

©Jacqui Slade

Monger 

The sad malicious monger

always has an opinion

and an enthusiasm

to salivate over shit

.

that they know nothing about.

They will spread it willingly

and try to poison your soul

with their jealous vitriol.

.

Their forked tongues will bite you hard

They hope that you will be weakened

by their ugly disdain and

venomous empowerment.

.

Their only orgasms come

from trying to ruin lives.

So hold your head high and laugh

their bitterness will fuck them.

.

©Jacqui Slade

Tired

The problem is I’m tired

I’m tired of your game.

I’m tired of hurting

and always being blamed.

.

Im tired of you treading

on my soul and heart.

I’m tired of my feelings

being torn apart.

.

Im tired of loving

you don’t appreciate.

My whole spirit’s giving

and you just give me hate

.

Tiny little pinpricks

of your mental abuse,

over time have scarred me

your love is just a ruse.

.

©Jacqui Slade

The Abuser

Thinking fear invokes respect

the abuser knows no bounds,

with their sick morality.

It’s society’s disease

.

as it turns the other cheek

on the victim. Loyalty

is to the miscreant soul

who is the casualty of

.

a battered fantasist, a

family breaker of an

acceptable life of tears,

beatings and vile perversion.

.

It’s always the jovial

fiend who walks away unscathed.

Whilst the world is disgusted

at the strong woman who fled.

.

©Jacqui Slade

Illusionist 

Your truth is a delusion

a magicians cloak of truth.

Cavorting with trickery

for self metamorphosis.

.

Juggling the deception

with manipulative lies.

The farcical illusion

is a peculiar twist

.

of disorderly dreams,

created to disguise a

loathsome actuality

by a poor conjurers mind.

.

Mere sorcery can’t hoodwink

your insecurity as,

self esteem so fragile lies

in splinters of broken wands.

.

©Jacqui Slade

Love Is A Slow Burn 

It’s a passionate flame

Igniting souls with its

ferocious flicker and

scorching intensity.

.

Its hellish damnation

is its fiery nature.

Emblazoned with desire

for its beloved spark

.

to combust in kindled

sweet nothings. Smothered

the glow is extinguished.

Loves waning’s a slow burn

.

Ones lust is cremated,

the other walks away.

Their passion still burning

leaving, their warm hearts scarred.

.

©Jacqui Slade