And one day I want to die feels like she's
I want to stop feeling this way
and then she’s running, barefoot
and breathless through the forest,
reaching with all she is towards
the sunlight peeking through
the trees as if she too can take
flight and command seasons to
breathe, breathe, breathe,
just like she’s always wanted
to but never could
until she finally learned
her real name was I want to live.
About the Creator
R.C. Taylor
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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Comments (2)
You gave me goosebumps with this. Seriously. Outstanding as always
So beautiful. Great imagery in this poem 💞