When I was a girl you licked the inside
of me watermelon rind clean
And left nothing but bitterness
And fruit flies that multiplied
And wouldn’t leave
And the sticky paper that we hung up
Caught nothing but me,
A hunk of meat, and scavengers that
came to feast
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.
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Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts4 days ago in Longevity
Comments (3)
Oh man. This is raw. From the sweetness of water melon devoured, to a hunk of meat. And flies. These images all compound.
Oh, RC, the torment you evoke echoes across the entirety of your poem, your metaphors accomplishing more with imagery than any explicit description possibly could. Simply stunning writing!
Ooof. I don’t even know what to say. Just. Wow