You lie there, caressing the minuscule dark particles of my brain
the reminder that you were once here
a constant murmur in my ear
Your sweet voice   — echoing
enticing me to live better
 
to endeavour love and hope once again
Your image severing my lust for life
with a strewn icicle
like the ones that hang lightly from the roof of the veranda
hoping one will fall and slice through me as I slam the door
 
harder and harder each time
to lie by your side, frozen in time with larvae from the blowfly
seems all but a dream to me
one I fantasise about daily
 
I would have the larvae devour my flesh
consenting the soil to make love with my ossein,
the thought of our carcasses inflating reminds me of that summer,
the summer we rented a bouncy castle in the shape of a cat for your birthday
 
together we shall bloat and collapse,
allowing our love of creatures to bounce and feast upon us
Mites  Carpet Beetles  Skipper Flies  Ants
Reminiscing that time I gifted you an ant farm after your first transplant

      sometimes, I sit in the shower,
          knees in a crease; the water,
relentless, raining
on the nape of my neck,
                 finding its way
            around my body
                            like a first lover –
 the droplets cling to eyelashes
                                 like a prayer
                    clings to Christ –
tears
 
 
Insanity
/ɪnˈsanəti/
Noun. the state of being seriously mentally ill; madness
 
 
      staring at white tiles,
                 the light, face
                        evasive, a bluebottle
against glass
 
                      I leave the shower,
wandering to a bed
like Joaquin Phoenix
             in the climax of You Were Never Really Here (2017)

About the author:
H. K. G. Lowery is a writer & musician from Gateshead. He gained a Distinction in his Masters in Creative Writing from Graduate College, Lancaster University. The department of English Literature & Creative Writing awarded him with the 2021/2022 Portfolio Prize for his work which received the highest mark in the faculty. Lowery has recently been published in Poetry Salzburg, Errant and The Ofi Press. ​

​Vaughan Williams’ The Lark Ascending,
because it does not scoff & scream,
gaslight & gossip, & insult, critique
 
Liszt’s Liebestraume 3,
because it does not disappear & cheat with sons
& say immature, insecure, controlling
 
Elgar’s Cello Concerto in E Minor,
because it does not daydream
about those it once loved
 
Schubert’s Vier Impromptus,
because distance
doesn’t kill us
 
Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata,
because
it makes me feel safe