I am the other woman's daughter. Though I came first, I did not come when the heart was decided. And didn't leave, when it changed its mind. I am the other woman's daughter. Daughter of the ex. Spare of a High School romance. Extra of the second broken marriage, and annoyance of the third. Daughter … Continue reading Daughter of the Other Woman
Category: Poetry
Bite Deep
Bite deep to my bones and take breath to tell what taste I possess. Lick wide to gather all the touch so I can be velveteen. Then clutch me hard and desperate, with sight thrown back to fully smell my afterimage: A flash of red and solo.
A Strip Away
Tell me how to strip away my skull to get to the broken bits within. The twisted wires that connect me to the overwhelming want for darkness, for nonexistence, for my flesh to peel off, because I cannot survive with just bone. Tell me there's a strip of hope I'm not seeing, one strong enough … Continue reading A Strip Away
Wake Me Up When I’m Smarter
What do I do now, Father? The die's been cast the game now bought and the red numbers higher than ever, while I, here, have no hands-on in controlling the flow of money. Blank, hard, cold cash. It hurts the lack thereof, but hurts more than I even want it at all. There is no … Continue reading Wake Me Up When I’m Smarter
I Want to Howl
I want to howl for the pain, strip down to all fours, bristle and fang, yowl like the dying for at least there's an end to that. I want to tear skin and flesh built over the years the cover the original me. The me who danced in summer rain, napped beneath swamp coolers, and … Continue reading I Want to Howl
About Father
He, the great who knows he is great, takes his time with sturdy shoes and a shop full of the world's next wonders carving for himself a legacy that he knows is a legacy. So many hate him for knowing it. He, the rich, who only speaks not of it because, to him, there's a … Continue reading About Father
Two Months Old
Since today is my first little boy's birthday, I thought I'd post something up about when he was a baby. Oh, how he became my muse. A fuzzy owl by his cheek, a partner on the other. he stares up, oblivious, then feels their triangle ears. Milk? No. Soft thing? "Owls!" he seems to yell … Continue reading Two Months Old
My Second Step-Father
She told me to call him Father, because my real Daddy had abandoned me long ago. And she said this with her new husband in the room. Father didn't like me. Said I didn't know respect, though, to this day, I've never been able to peice together what made up his needed respect. She told … Continue reading My Second Step-Father
Whisper
Quiet, now. For once your fears or discomfort are whistled to, he shall deny them. But they shan't dissolve. So whisper to the darkness that something's wrong and let it echo back. Or perhaps the abyss will swallow it. So hush. For if wrong's swallowed you'll want it too, you'll lean over. But should someone … Continue reading Whisper
Winter Longing
Shelter me in fake leaves and fire, the smell of cider or cinnamon. I want the sky to mellow gray, to dream of feasts and coats and fleece. Pull down the growing sun to leave the nights open to lights and tinkle and indoor warmth. I've served my time to heat and watermelon. Hats, glove, … Continue reading Winter Longing
Author T.S. Lowe 