Scrape me off till I'm just bone, no muscles left to ache. Leave me limp on somewhere soft and in the sun to bake. Pop my joints, let nothing stick to aggravate or scorn. And when I'm done resting in peace, put me back once more.
Scrape Me Off
Tag: writer’s life
Dry
It's dry and gray outside. I'm dreaming of naps and Monsters, despite knowing the chemicals will induce unrest. There's bumps minute in pain, but satisfying in their defeat covering my forehead with puss. Blink up, dry eyes, to rain? Not yet. Skies here love to tease too much of moisture. Deserts don't do me well. … Continue reading Dry
Earthbound
Tell me why I'm still standing here, head tilted back, mouth open wide, for rain to drown me on open land. I'm clinging for strads of atmosphere, but all it is is air. Tell me whether to stay or go when what I long to do is fly. But even if I were to reach … Continue reading Earthbound
When I’ve Reached “There”
What if I did give up? What if I just wrote my stories and put them wherever and forget about getting known or making money? What if I just gave up on making a career out of it? I hate selling things anyways, and I hate marketing even more. If people want my story, I'm … Continue reading When I’ve Reached “There”
Of Palest Ebony
Another story idea I played around with for a bit. Probably isn't going to go anywhere. The cell was dark and cool, like a pantry. Unpleasant smells filled it: urine, old body odor, stale food, stale straw—but underneath it all was a tantalizing smell of wet stone and something akin to rain. It was almost … Continue reading Of Palest Ebony
Track Worms
Back when I was 17, after I had just moved in with the father I barely knew, I would go running in the mornings during the free hour in-between the 6am Seminary and school. I'd pull on my old dance pants, my sports bra, and an old gym shirt and run around the track in … Continue reading Track Worms
Author T.S. Lowe 