R.C. Taylor

Joined July 2021

285 stories

Bio

I write to invoke, to process, to honor, to resurrect, and—sometimes—to grieve but, above all, I write to be free.

Follow along for stories about a little bit of everything (i.e. nostalgia and other affairs of the heart).

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Stories (285)

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Push
Moon angrily chased her into sea the Tide rushed away once again before stilling completely when he took all of her there was nothing left
By R.C. Taylorabout a year ago in Poets
searching for a muse
your face is missing features once again I call out to you the foghorn is deep eternity stretches onwards your pocket is heavy with stones
By R.C. Taylorabout a year ago in Poets
The Blacker the Berry.... Top Story - July 2024. Content Warning.
A trunk without branches... ⠀ my mother is sweet blackberry my father was deadly nightshade my grandparents hardy juniper berries
By R.C. Taylor2 years ago in Poets
Echoes
The love I feel for my family doesn't behave in stanzas, never knows what language it is, is so powerful that I feel it in my bones
By R.C. Taylor2 years ago in Poets
agape
just in awe of life i never thought it would be like this remembering the days my mama sang crying because we didn't have enough money
By R.C. Taylor2 years ago in Poets
20 Dollar Bills
If my 20s are supposed to be the best time in my life then why am I spending them like dollar bills I never had,
By R.C. Taylor2 years ago in Poets
Thanks to Vocal I'm Making a Spoken Word Visual Album. Top Story - July 2024.
Hello Wonderful Community, During my time at Vocal, I've written quite a lot starting all the way with the 2021 Summer series, hopping in right at Death by Chocolate.
By R.C. Taylor2 years ago in Writers
Fly Paper. Content Warning.
When I was a girl you licked the inside of me watermelon rind clean And left nothing but bitterness And fruit flies that multiplied
By R.C. Taylor2 years ago in Poets
the american dream
i stay asleep so i can at least taste the american dream promised to me because when i’m awake it all stays wrapped in cellophane
By R.C. Taylor2 years ago in Poets
Chanel No. 5
I imagine at the end of my life when the stars whisk out of sight and everything quiets down like an old radio, I'll slip on death
By R.C. Taylor2 years ago in Poets
swim. Top Story - June 2024.
If my body was a ship would we make it to sea or would the moon and the tides continue to laugh at me?
By R.C. Taylor2 years ago in Poets
A Little Place Called the River
wu wei whispers to me to be like a little place called the river a sacred place calling me home where my troubles flow downstream and
By R.C. Taylor2 years ago in Poets