Why did you leave? You say it's because the home was a lie, that there is no way to find God, for all ways lead to God, and very few lead to the devil. I say I will not, that I will not leave my Father's path, and you ask "What if it is a … Continue reading Apostate
Tag: anxiety
Sin of Covet
Covet all within a store known for fragile Chinese wares. Where is your pride now?
His Mother’s Red Dress
His mother's red dress is two sizes too big for me. I wear it anyways, flattered to wear that which was left behind; once well beloved but forgotten, but I cannot sew. And I find I am too fond to put it off: my husband's mother's red dress.
Deeper Ink
I want my ink to be deep and wide that my words should look sure and unmovable, rather than a thin scrabbled mess meant for temporary notes and reminder. Perhaps then I'll have more say more control over what I write and how it moves my world. Perhaps, then, I'll adore those thick inky strokes … Continue reading Deeper Ink
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
To My Friend Named ‘Death’
Death, You see yourself as empty black stone; a building with no purpose. You claim the ground beneath your feet is thin, with flames beneath the surface. The days gape wide, swallow you whole, for you to past through half-digested out the other side, and you say you can smell the stench of yourself. Death, … Continue reading To My Friend Named ‘Death’
You Bring Out the Worst in Me
Daddy, you bring out the worst in me. When did I become so mean? I don't even recognize it until I've gone away and can't do much about it. Daddy, even when I think we're okay, it comes out-like slippery worms, at your friends, at your neighbors, all the dirt you didn't tell. I want … Continue reading You Bring Out the Worst in Me
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
To Us Ericksons
Travel to the mountains and tell me what it means to fill your lungs with ice and air, rocks, dirt, chasms, hills, and tell me there's no God again. Cradle me and whisper warmth from a fire that's not yours, then wrap me in a blanket, nevermind I say the wool will burn, and throw … Continue reading To Us Ericksons
Author T.S. Lowe 