I want to be slim as a curve of skin; want to bask in white sand waters. Sun me, you costly coasts, and let me try out just once, comfortable flesh. So comfortable that I don't feel naked in a swim suit, nor mince my steps to control the jello I've had since 13. But I'm … Continue reading Costly Flesh
I'm drowning in my own flesh no man can see me in here. As a woman, I can hardly be found as such in my form, my ball, my world. And yet, a woman I still am weeping and laughing and crying all in my room hidden away within my ghastly suit. I love him. … Continue reading The Girl in Love with Scott Smith
The hanger lied. The leather pants were not my size, and my cheeks ballooned like white mushroom tops above the black waistband, promising, and failing, to make me Catwoman. Nah. I'm a thick calved black pillar to hold up the white marshmellow balloons, so thick the band that won't swallow pushes them up to my … Continue reading Catwoman vs. The Plig Dress
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.
Tell me I am the amber gold of your fallen leaves, the ones not found and pressed between your pages. Tell me I am the winter fog reminding your lungs that there's such a thing as breathing under water. Tell me I am the green musk of your budding arms reaching to a warming sky; … Continue reading Tell Me I’m Alive
Author T.S. Lowe 