Each shrine of my art is dedicated to the muse which is you. And each rung of my dreams spools and hinges on your existence. I only started to breathe real air when you stood still to breathe next to me-- perhaps the first to just stand there doing nothing, saying nothing, but just there … Continue reading My Love
Sitting naked at my computer, thinking about you. How strange that so many fear what we have. They call it prison what has freed me more than childhood. A killer of love they call this, which makes me think of you as I sit here naked in front of the screen. Each inch of my … Continue reading Sitting Naked
It's raining on the eaves, and I'm watching a charming Anime. And should I care to peek next door, a little son with hands about a teddy snores. I've always wanted a cat. And he purrs whenever I squeal and hug him, because he's soft, and Anime is fun. My bed--so soft! This memory foam … Continue reading A Night for Forgetting
One day I'll own a car with A/C and a working radio (glory, CD player!) Won't I be wealthy then? One day I'll buy a bagel smothered in cheese without worrying that it'll break the bank. (I really like bagels) Won't I be wealthy then? One day I'll pay my own freaking rent as easy … Continue reading How to Be Wealthy
You make me queasy. You make me long to sleep the day away and never leave this quilted, padded hole, where no one can find me. You make me hurt. You make me dream of jamming screw drivers to my broken brain to dig out the part that malfunctions, no matter how necessary, so I … Continue reading We Manage Us
Swallow the cap of bleach and hide the poison you take every day so you can afford to kill yourself. Evict the yellow blood. Make salvation tenderly, then sit it in the corner in a dirty onsie, while you fill your home with hellfire money and sickness. Drink deep of pleasure whenever you want, pretend … Continue reading Wicked
Author T.S. Lowe 