am I something the sun can set
down like its lumbering body
or like the breeze can its dandelion name?
will I ever find myself curled back up
in a fetal position next to the clay heart
of my mother, bright handprints smudged
all over my body like art
or will I be forgotten come next spring?
tell me
will this be the last time i become rain?
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).
Keep reading
More stories from R.C. Taylor and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Grace of Reciprocity
The only unspoken understanding now is this: if you ignore me, I absolutely won't bother you. This isn't about being competitive or indifferent; it's about acknowledging the most basic truth of adulthood: relationships must be mutual, not sustained by stubbornness.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing7 days ago in Poets
Comments (1)
Oooof. What primal desires, what hopes for a peaceful full-circle ending