I don't have time to meet the end, I'm picking at my scalp and wondering-- no, knowing, you'll never try to change it. They call it pride. You call it personality. And I try at scabs and puss and stuff to distract me from never seeing you, because your demons had always danced and sung … Continue reading Dandruff and Mothers
I find the sound of your tiny snores ease my darkest nights. A profile of long lashes and bits of polished sky-- bits of me. But I couldn't be this beautiful. I want to hold you like in the days when you despaired whenever you couldn't hear my heart, but you're older now. And no … Continue reading Light my Nights
I often wonder to the scrawny, passion-confused boy I left behind. The one who always fights with his music--banging on the keys because he's angry--angry at everything. I often wonder if he is still angry, but that is what makes me wary of him; forever wary of him. He was a knot of a person. … Continue reading The Passion Confused Boy
He paves a path through morning dew in search of apples. Little legs, though not as little as they use to be. Crows of sheep and points at goats, then waits to see if the cat's on the roof. Wanders back with upraised hands-- still little hands. Almost to big to carry home, but little enough … Continue reading A Little Walk
It's late. I wonder why you Godless friend why it stings to roll and watch you muck yourself with your own love juices-- how it's only embarassing and not wrong to you. There is no love in sex for you. No 'love making.' No children, no family, only with convenience and it's stinging how I … Continue reading Godless Friend
Little swirls of bronze and gold, sat before a Disney rainbow, centered on the side of the skull. How I love those little skulls.
Mama, there is no easy path to ride into your Indian summers. Autumn is upon you now but you stoutly refuse to put on your coat or stop swimming in the ocean. Storms may come, but you insist you can mold any wave with your spirit that still sees itself riding mustangs in the desert, … Continue reading Mama, Autumn Comes
Tell me how to fix my drug. I'll gladly yield my chains to the pill that gives me no high, no pleasant side effect, just the ability to almost almost feel normal. So tell me how to fix my drug. Tell me to take walks in the sunlit muse of evergreens and myrtle trees, and … Continue reading Tell Me How To Fix My Drug
Electricity changes from month to month, But, on average: 100...Maybe. Garbage: 20 Phone: 48 Car Insurance…we’ve been in too many wrecks. Medication: 50 something That changes all the time But I’m mostly ashamed that I even have it. Gas: 200 More insurance: 93 Because it’s illegal to not have enough. Groceries: I don’t want to … Continue reading Budget
Scrape me off till I'm just bone, no muscles left to ache. Leave me limp on somewhere soft and in the sun to bake. Pop my joints, let nothing stick to aggravate or scorn. And when I'm done resting in peace, put me back once more.
Author T.S. Lowe 