drown
a poem about healing and finding your voice again after abuse
with the deluge way my ancestors shout
i’m Jonah swallowed by the big fish and i’m scared
when i finally open my mouth a sea will swell out.
⠀
words a ground-shaking geyser spout
that followed Big Dipper and stripped the moon bared
with the deluge way my ancestors shout.
⠀
heart a ribcaged hummingbird and voice burnt out
crying the stars in the sky and i’m scared
when i finally open my mouth a sea will swell out
⠀
no matter how they ravage Mother Earth, she’s all about.
give it to her. holding it within is a poison; release, share
with the deluge way my ancestors shout
⠀
spirit rekindling like fire, strength comes in bouts
cupped hands around a flame, blown by gentle breath—aired
when i finally open my mouth a sea will swell out
⠀
And you, who tore me to nothingness and doubt,
baptized me with miasma, to you I dare
with the deluge way my ancestors shout
when I finally open my mouth a sea will swell out
⠀
Inspired by my poem:
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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