Tell me how to strip away my skull to get to the broken bits within. The twisted wires that connect me to the overwhelming want for darkness, for nonexistence, for my flesh to peel off, because I cannot survive with just bone. Tell me there's a strip of hope I'm not seeing, one strong enough … Continue reading A Strip Away
In Your Dreams By T.S. Lowe 1 His Lamborghini’s seat conformed to my body as though it were made for it, as a billion dollar car’s seat would. The contours of the interior were lost on me, however, as my attention was too the man sliding into the driver’s seat next to me. … Continue reading In Your Dreams
He thinks if he expresses how much he doesn't like me it will stop me from trying to be a good mom. Oh, my precious baby, I ache for the feel of a soft little head beneath my chin, and little fingers clasped about my own. They were my moments to worship you. Little, soft … Continue reading I don’t like you, Mom
Bite deep to my bones and take breath to tell what taste I possess. Lick wide to gather all the touch so I can be velveteen. Then clutch me hard and desperate, with sight thrown back to fully smell my afterimage: A flash of red and solo.