It’s hard to think deeply unsettled as shells half-baked and empty on the sand. Only fingers can change my view. Otherwise, I can only wait the eons between high and low sea tides. Even then, no life hangs to my sides, though it was life that I came to be.
Tag: anxiety disorders
Crazy House Poem #1
I’m sure, once a cloud drifted through asleep on drafts of dreams, warmed by dangerous desert lands where the hungry ground eats clouds for life. But in that brief cool morning, when sun was kind and vicious lands asleep, the fog turned golden, alive in delight that the warm dream could come true.
The Worth of Dreams
Those who have reached the dream cry hope, while those who grow old in the gray light of poverty shake their heads. So shake me loose. Where is the middle ground? Or is this overcast life it? They say dreams are fickle, corrupting, even. As much to peel you back for spoils as to give … Continue reading The Worth of Dreams
Off Kilter
I crouch in a dark room. Sun closed off. Sky closed off. Curtains, keep all sight away, because my chest is painfully tight and a hole is burning through me for no reason, and it blisters against the thoughts screaming "Why?" But there's really no answer to that. Or an answer too large to hold, … Continue reading Off Kilter
Shade of Summer Days
Tell my why I prefer naked moonlit nights to the shade of sunny days. I'm not white, I'm the color of murky ocean, curdling beneath me with drifting globes of jellyfish. I dream of peeking down below at all the things that grow there. I'm meant to lounge in softness, killing dragons, slaying monsters, in … Continue reading Shade of Summer Days
Dandruff and Mothers
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
Tell Me How To Fix My Drug
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
Bringing in a Homeless
A ghost walked through my door, tagged along by a tiny, three-year old responsibility, and asked me nothing, but heavily implied and sagged until I offered a bed. A ghost walked through my door, heavy, weary, with echoes of drugs in my head, medical or otherwise, waiting till I offered food to announce that she … Continue reading Bringing in a Homeless
The Day My Brain Busts
I whisper to myself jealously that I'll be alright. My body's gone this far. My brain will be the first to shut down, like an engine with just one too many miles. But the rest of me is still fresh. But tomorrow I will be clean. Start at dawn clean the places I have been, … Continue reading The Day My Brain Busts
I’m Not Strong
I'm not strong. I only yell my hands to still until I reach the lonely corner to curl up and give in to the weakness. I'm not strong. My mind lasted for childhood then broke in motherhood. I demand for sense but it draws blank-- to black. I'm not strong. I wail against the world … Continue reading I’m Not Strong
Author T.S. Lowe 