the american dream
where has she gone, was she ever here?
i stay asleep so i can at least taste
the american dream promised to me
because when i’m awake it all
stays wrapped in cellophane
words trapped between us
gossamer dresses empty
of wearers dance in
distraction in hopes i will
never notice even the
sun has given up, stayed
in bed because depression
waterboarded her until she
was nothing more than
an afterthought
there is no sky left.
no end.
i will walk in your direction
until we finally meet again
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)
Wow is this intense! “Even the sun has given up…” This scorches, RC! Amazing writing!
How else can this be felt except right in the gut? All truth here. It needed to be written. And holy-moly Sistah did you write it-TAHHHH! "Was she ever here?" Placing my bets on "Nope."