And So I Do Nothing

drowning in a desert depression made

By R.C. TaylorPublished 3 years ago • 1 min read

stranded in my mind, childhood green now nothing but a gasping drought

maybe if I strain I can hear myself over the deluge way my ancestors shout

for me to get up, rise up, and reclaim what's mine—

the healing, the life, the time

but I'm scared that when I finally open my mouth a sea will swell out

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

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