I want to dream of being afraid of the deep end of the ocean, right off the cliff of the land I know. I want to dream of moving through waters with each move of my brow and neck, rather than by pecarious balance of feet. I want to dream of gasping for thin human … Continue reading I Want to Dream of Mermaids
Tag: Poetry
I don’t like letting go of Money
I don't like letting go of money. I know, I know, I'll pay, because I want it. But, just for a moment, remember I'm handsie and don't like letting go of money. Yes, yes, I know you need it as well. You did the job, you did what I want, now here it is, but … Continue reading I don’t like letting go of Money
Breathe
Come here. Sit at the foot of my bed. The walls are strong, and it's quiet here. You can breathe. Because, I hear, that you hardly get enough air these days, and your poor chest is breaking for breath. So just come here a moment, sit at the foot of my bed, and breathe. Breathe. … Continue reading Breathe
A Night for Forgetting
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
Syrian Toddler Drowns
He had little shoes. Trying to get to a life with food. While my own watches Megamind, swathed in soft cloth. He had little hands. Following with or without Mommy. While my own squeals every time I kiss him too long. He had little legs. Swallowed up in an ocean, and found too late. While … Continue reading Syrian Toddler Drowns
Poop
Pretty sure that's a whole pound of poo he left in the shower. And there's an empty bottle of my expensive, velveteen bodywash, I thought I had put out of his reach. But nope, there's the stool to potty train him. That's how. And then there's all the bath toys wallowing in the pits of … Continue reading Poop
My Muse?
"I will not help you," she said. "You dangle too much on the edge of reality and hope that I'm much too aware of your stupid means." But I already knew I was stupid. Isn't that why I couldn't write tonight? But then again, I never meant her any pink offenses. Even if what I … Continue reading My Muse?
War Dog Lover
I'm a cat person. Always wanted a cat. Keep trying to convince the dog lover of the house that a cat isn't too bad. Besides, this cat, my cat, is soft, lovable, hugable, purrs at your feet at night, runs into walls, gives you derpy looks-- and then fills the whole house with the smell … Continue reading War Dog Lover
Why Fan Girls Creep Me Out
I'm going to hunt for Seto Kaiba. I'll get an old van painted blue, record a few shows for ol' Youtube. Everyone will want to see if I find Seto Kaiba, or one in kind. I do not care if I'm forty years old, For the sake of Kaiba I will be bold. And when … Continue reading Why Fan Girls Creep Me Out
Is This Mental Illness?
Rationalize the irrational sick brain. It says 'die' tell it 'no.' But a thought is still a thought, both 'die' and 'no,' leaving the heart alone in the chest, craving, craving. Only death really ends it. Now there's a reason. Rationalize that irrational screaming. They'll leave no love no warmth no peace the world's a … Continue reading Is This Mental Illness?
Author T.S. Lowe 