Biography of Felicity Slaughter
My real name is Jenna Bailey and I am 20 years old. I started writing poetry at the age of 13, against my own will, in fact. But once I began to write, I found not only my talent, but my passion for poetry. I found a way to put into words the beauty and also the tragedy I see in the world. My poems reflect emotions about personal experiences, observation, and in some cases, pure imagination. I've gotten nothing but love from everyone who is near and dear to me, and I'm forever in debt to those who gave my writing a chance. I owe my friends who supported me the world, and the only way I know how to do that is through words. So I shall continue, and never hold back.
Felicity Slaughter Poems
Ode To My First Love
You are my sky above and my Earth below. A frown will never obscure
I am hungry for you. I am hungry for your lips. They're soft,
The Water Lily Pond
As I sit on the bank just thinking, and look into the rippling water, I listen to nature,
I am a smitten and longing individual, lost in the mix. I wonder how he feels. I hear his voice everywhere. I see his shadow on the ground next to me.
A Sweet Surrender
A kiss. Just one. That's all it took to make me float on air.
Time And Space
My life is spiraling out of control Twirling and twisting more violently than a rampaging tornado.
I fell as though I am being punished for not taking my own life yet. So now I cry myself to sleep.
Am I Hearing Things?
Shh. Be quiet. Demons are flying free. They're headed for you.
Do you know what it is like to be trapped. It is like being convicted of a crime you didn't commit.
Who Am I?
Do you see the real me? I don't think anyone can, and I've been striving to speak up.
Will you stop with your lies? It gets very annoying. Like you couldn't believe. But you wouldn't understand.
Put the blame on me. Blame me for everything. But does it matter?
Heavenly bliss, or the firy pits of Hell? These are the wonders of death.
Dark roses lay dead at my feet, the moon is shining a depressing glow on the hilltop on which I dwell.
I fall asleep to sweet
images of me in your arms,
a tight embrace of smitten
A solitary kiss on my
cheek, and I rest peacefully
for another night.