Tag Archives: Shelly Lyons

Being Human

By Shelly Lyons

“Sometimes I sleep with the tv on all night so I won’t feel so alone,” 
he confesses, wanting to share his loneliness.

I prefer going to sleep to music, I tell him, 
hoping the songs and their world will float 
into my dreams to shape them.

I’ve slept alone since before I was born,
so it’s not being alone that I am scared of,
no, that’s the easiest thing in the world.
my fear is having to 
share space and air and life with others,
because then my nerves can’t sleep or even take a rest – 
I must be ever aware
so I can be right,
breathe right… speak right… move right…
interact in this world in the right way,
so I’ll be accepted and included and maybe even sought after…

The music accepts me,
urges me to sing along and join the game,
but even alone with it
I blush when I sing the wrong words at the wrong time, 
burn with the shame of making a mistake,
of letting it be known that my brain works
a little differently than anyone else’s.

Yet I am so lenient,
accepting and forgiving of others, 
because mistakes by them are just 
real life,
perfectly okay and human,
but I am so scared of making a mistake, 
looking the fool, making bad impressions, turning people away,
of forgetting what to do or how to do it,
or what to say or who to be – 
it’s easier, much easier,
to hide in the shadows and soak up everyone else’s lives,
just hoping that someday 
I’ll learn how to live
and just be human. 


Shelly Lyons is a writer and teacher from North Carolina. She has been a life-long writer who’s especially partial to poetry and short stories but is now working on her first novel. She’s had a variety of poems and articles published both online and in print through the years.

road trip

By Shelly Lyons

pressure building steadily,
halfway through my 2nd cup of caffeine, 
nervously watching miles slowly tick by 
until the Virginia rest stop

jerk open top button 
in hopes that more space
will keep bladder from bursting,

friendly patches of asphalt,
inside diagonal lines
welcome me to the state, 
pop open car door, keys in hand,
lock and slam in one smooth motion,

speed walk past huge
VIRGINA IS FOR LOVERS,
yank open the heavy glass door, 
make a beeline for the women’s room,
still fresh and clean
at this early hour just past sunrise, 
gleaming white toilet, seat propped open,  
sweet zipper melody, followed by 
fast yank down of pants and undies,
lower expectantly onto cool plastic,
ahhh,
hot release forcefully flows, 
falls freely, 
swirling into the cold water,
our essences mixing
almost as good 
as an orgasm,
pulsing stream of liquid, 
down, 
out, 
warm smooth freedom

after-glow accompanies me to the parking lot,
I take a moment to joyfully stretch and bend,
smile at passersby and the morning sky
before folding myself down onto the car seat,
basking in the sweet relief 
of my empty bladder. 


Shelly Lyons is a writer and teacher from North Carolina. She has been a life-long writer who’s especially partial to poetry and short stories but is now working on her first novel. She’s had a variety of poems and articles published both online and in print through the years.

one great purge

By Shelly Lyons

It’s amazing how much 
the writing of a poem
is like throwing-up

it catches me by surprise almost every time,
this building of turmoil,
words churning and rolling about my head
the threat of release grows stronger each moment

I try to ignore it, 
can’t let it happen now,
this isn’t the time 
or place,
but
the string of words refuses to leave,
building and boiling
till the urge finally overtakes me,

I run for a pen,
search frantically for a piece of paper
just like the desperate run 
for the toilet bowl,
the cold porcelain – the cold pen,
brings relief to my spirit,

and if I’m lucky
I can stay 
and get it all out
in one great purge.


Shelly Lyons is a writer and teacher from North Carolina. She has been a life-long writer who’s especially partial to poetry and short stories but is now working on her first novel. She’s had a variety of poems and articles published both online and in print through the years.