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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Antique Books & Parchment
He loved the way she would absent-mindedly bite the end of her quill in concentration only to splutter quietly the moment the feathers touched her tongue. He always pretended to not see.
By R.C. Taylor3 years ago in Fiction
Accretion
Something pulled him to Alyxander, something primal and instinctual that was beyond sexual attraction. All he knew is that they felt like two magnets flying towards one another across a great distance. Their joining would be destructive but it was all they wanted. Raw, dark curiosity drove him, dangerous in this form.
By R.C. Taylor3 years ago in Fiction
The Torch & The Flame
She thought that Dorian would have given some rousing speech, a martyr’s last words but all he did was look lamentably at her and mumble hoarsely, “I’m sorry I failed”.
By R.C. Taylor3 years ago in Fiction
After Constellations Go Dark
Fly, Volans, is the last thought I manage before the fever finally overwhelms me just as the aurora lights go dim, waves of light disappearing one by one as if someone was turning off switches and saying goodnight.
By R.C. Taylor3 years ago in Fiction
Bystander
While you quietly watched, my lover crawled up my throat like a blossoming rose, thorns nailing my tongue as I suffocated.
By R.C. Taylor3 years ago in Poets
The Night After I Killed Myself . Top Story - May 2023.
Dear Me, The night after I killed myself, dreams woke me up and I found myself across the country in my mother’s
By R.C. Taylor3 years ago in Poets
Dear Grief
Dear Grief, Her floral sheets wave in the wind like hoisted sails broken free from masts, and with them wafts the smell of laundry,
By R.C. Taylor3 years ago in Poets
Gravity Offended
Dear Americans, The sun rises in the east as Black and brown communities are forced to finger paint with the blood
By R.C. Taylor3 years ago in Poets
Desert Bloom
Dearest Love, How could anyone not love you? From the moment I met your eyes I was welcomed home before we even said our first hello.
By R.C. Taylor3 years ago in Poets
A Six Word Letter
Dear Grammy, I miss you. ̶W̶h̶e̶n̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶d̶i̶e̶d̶ ̶s̶o̶m̶e̶h̶o̶w̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶w̶o̶r̶l̶d̶ ̶k̶e̶p̶t̶ ̶t̶u̶r̶n̶i̶n̶g̶.̶ ̶I̶ ̶w̶a̶n̶t̶e̶d̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶b̶e̶g̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶w̶a̶i̶t̶—
By R.C. Taylor3 years ago in Poets
There is a Poem in a Sunflower
While traipsing on the dunes by the beach, sea air leaving salty kisses on my skin, I saw a sunflower growing straight out of the sand.
By R.C. Taylor3 years ago in Poets
A Sleepy Deluge
Rain falls over the ocean as gentle As a lover’s kiss on worried cheeks, Sheets of deluge moving in swiftly and gracefully,
By R.C. Taylor3 years ago in Poets