8I don't want to take my medicine. I want to be able to choose for myself whether I'm frightened or not. But every hour asks me, 'do you think you need your drug?' It's weakness, that little orange bottle, filled with sedatives. I want to be strong. Normal. Have a chance to be proud. Not … Continue reading I Don’t Want to Take My Medicine
Tag: anxiety disorder
When it Rains
When it rains the slugs come out and eat all my green attempts to be skinny. They need no shells, no fear of claw, for predators hide from the sky when it rains.
To Stop You
You make me tired. Maybe one day I'll get all you and you to stand still so I can breathe and figure out where my mind is kept. But for now, you are tearing aqua marine, a sky swallowing me, because I can't stop thinking, I can't get the trees to just stop and look at me. … Continue reading To Stop You
I Ache Tonight
I ache tonight. Take me down to a cool bed that isn't mine. Dress me up in a different time and call me by a different name, because I ache tonight within my frame, and cannot figure why. I ache tonight. So shroud me beneath ocean colors, seaweed arms to take me whole, and tie … Continue reading I Ache Tonight
Anxiety Doesn’t Care About Stories
Grasping at straws broken plastic cutting the divinating creases of my palm. Tell me live long and may your future be devoid of vomit. Crack open my skull, and peel back the membrane crushing me. I'm seeing. Hallucinating. What's real? You are real, but am I? Nails, through my ears Temples, where God waits on … Continue reading Anxiety Doesn’t Care About Stories
To My Kai
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 To My Kai
Dear God
God, I am weak. Let me confess that first, even though I know you don't care, because I feel the need to be accountable to my Father for all the wrong I've done. And I come to you to ask: why do so many claim hell is happiness? No. That is but one more sin … Continue reading Dear God
I Live
My breath tastes of green onion. Chai isn't enough to balm the taste. Desk lamps shine on lonely work, and I want to read to be taken away, but the clench the onion brings me back. I ate dinner. I function. I breathe. I live. And it sticks to me like green onion breath, overpowering … Continue reading I Live
Unwanted Road Trip
Check one, sunrise. Head thump and eyes blur, because my walls stayed sleepless. Perhaps, because they weren't mine. Check two, morning. A purr, a groan, and press an engine past 200,000, because old is all we are. Check three, noon. Siestas are for the poor who have no time for them. And home is far … Continue reading Unwanted Road Trip
Author T.S. Lowe 