Virginia Woolf Stones
when I gave away my power, I sank
my dreams were high in the sky, fingertips brushing the tails of
the shooting stars they tried to catch before you kept filling their
pockets with Virginia Woolf stones and that's when they sank down
⠀⠀
down
⠀
past cloud nine candy floss they once ate happily while laughing
with their friends, carnival lights prism reflecting off their smile
⠀
past gentle rain that bathed their skin with soft, wet baptism, piano
melody played delicately on them by freshwater pianist fingers
⠀
down
⠀
past the red balloon they comforted that a little girl had let go of in
the grocery store parking lot after her mom warned her to hold tight
⠀
down
⠀
past figure eights they used to loop around tall skyscrapers, happy
that they were finally rising, rising, rising, breathless as with life
⠀⠀
down
⠀
past treetops where they lost some of them along the way because like
boosters on a rocket they couldn't take all of them when they first rose
⠀
down
⠀
past the tide that rocked them to and fro, shooshing them as if they
were a babe again as they said goodbye to sky, returning to the womb
⠀⠀
down
⠀
past the magnets that they used to stick on Davy Jones' locker when
they were just a young girl still figuring themselves out, clueless
⠀
down
⠀
my dreams
⠀
down
⠀
sank far
⠀
down
⠀
into Mariana Trench
⠀
down
⠀
where creatures never discovered wondered past them in welcoming
at the utter brilliance and beauty of their bioluminescence that was not
appreciated by you. they kept sinking down
⠀down
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀down
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀down
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀down
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀down
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀down
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀until the pressure alone killed them.
About the Creator
R.C. Taylor
Part-time daydreamer. Full-time dork.
Follow along for stories about a little bit of everything (i.e. adventure and other affairs of the heart).
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More stories from R.C. Taylor and writers in Poets and other communities.
Temptation’s Light
This bizarre and complex series of events started innocently enough. At three in the morning, I begrudgingly dragged my body out of a cozy, warm bed to answer nature's call. I never put on a light for this journey, preferring to use whatever moonlight is available. On my way back to bed, I spotted it. A speck of light no larger than a pinhole appeared to be shining through my bedroom wall. The phenomenon held my attention for about two seconds, then I went back to sleep.
By Mark Gagnon7 days ago in Horror
Comments (4)
Wow. That's incredible. Well done
So very heartbreakingly sad, but incredibly beautifully written! So much skill in pace, word choice and brevity at work here. Well done!
Wow. That last line hits hard in the most perfect way. Really beautifully done.
Wow, RC, this is incredibly powerful, and so so sad. I feel the wrenching away of those dreams, and their will to survive despite everything. What an amazing contemplation on what happens to dreams when we let them go. 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻