Running Shoes 

I notice everything like your disapproval

of the shoes I choose to wear. They are comfortable

but I look terrible to you in my Nike

trainers and so to keep you happy I buy boots

.

that I don’t want and I don’t particularly like.

I get outside the shop, put them on. They’re too small.

I didn’t care about the shoes you were wearing.

All that mattered to me was spending time with you.

.

They are buried now somewhere in my wardrobe

because although they are very comfortable

and in very good condition I won’t wear them

anymore because you chose to criticise my

.

choice in shoes and I didn’t want to be a huge

embarrassment to you. It made me feel quite bad

but I don’t think it entered your mind. All you saw

were shoes you didn’t like not the person in them.

.

©Jacqui Slade

Corridor 

A long white stretching corridor

is where I find myself walking.

I’ve been here before semi-conscious.

Clamming in fear every time as

The presence surrounds me crushing.

I try to flee with lead legs and

silver beads fall from my head, as

motion slow I try to make it

to the door. Panic urging me

to escape the faceless ghosts as

curtains blow somewhere I need to

return to. Confounded my hand

on the handle I look back eyes

wide and open the door only

to not know, which way to go. Sobbing

staircases coiling to some place

escaping. Each stair I tread on

I feel it coming ever closer.

Desperately reaching the top to

find more doors to open in dread.

Certain I will evermore be

lost here searching for a way out.

Despondent and reckless I run

trying each door in futile hope.

Until guided by an angel

that I cannot see, I find my

way back to sanity through

a doorway that I shut firmly.

With sheets crumpled and matted hair

I dream now of much sweeter things.

©Jacqui Slade03

Toolbox

Sometimes life throws a

spanner in the works.

It’s always when you

think you have nailed it

.

that it wrenches at

your heart, prising it

open, cutting you with

its saw. Often it

.

will drive you nuts but

don’t bolt to go and

get hammered thinking

you’re in a state of

.

disrepair. Screw your

negativity.

All you need is a

toolbox to fix you.

.

©Jacqui Slade

The First House

The doorway of existence

opens. New beginnings are

born. Life manifests itself

in the metamorphosis of

.

water into air. The key

unlocked the self. Foundations

were cemented in the stars.

The windows reflect your soul.

.

Each brick is constructed with

your ego. You are your own

architect of destiny.

Your true personality

.

will eternally reside

in this primary dwelling.

Don’t show the world ugliness.

Compose structural beauty.

.

©Jacqui Slade