Roadkill
I envy you
I fantasize about the day that a car will come
Screeching at me
Slamming their brakes
But fail
You’re not stupid
No one would call you such a nasty word
You saw an opportunity
And you took it
You put your heart on the dotted yellow line
And somehow your guts keep getting slammed
Against the pavement
I’m so tired of scraping up the pieces
But you lay there
Splattered and broken
I envy you
Because I just need to rest
Is this my final resting place?
Is this the soundtrack of the end?
Am I cloaked in my final threads?
Are they good enough for people to find me in?
Will they cut them off in attempt to save me?
Do I want them to?
They’d never do that for you
So why am I any more precious?
They leave you to rot
I envy your peace
In a Better Place
“I love your warm face”
He always keeps his windshield wipers wiping
Faster than everyone else on the highway
They squeak and whine and smack the
Perimeter with a perfectly metronome paced
Thud
Offbeat with the love song I’m singing for him
I’ve always hated when the author told us about a
Juxtaposition
On our first date I took note of the sound
A silent observer
A few weeks later poked fun at it
Then grew the courage to reach over and
Flick them off myself when the rain stopped
Now I linger in the tempo and remember the
rainy days before us
“Your face is cold- let me warm it up”
I dare let a tear fall
Because for just one transient moment all was
Well
Your hand in mine and the
pats of rain on the windows and the
Hum of “Dandelion Wine”
Resonating in my ears
It only took a second of rest and peace for
My thoughts to drift to death and back again
The juxtaposition was
Paralyzing
“I love the feeling of your warm face against my cold one”
Stay Out of My Garden
I have grown
with this body of mine.
I planted seeds of comfort along my hips,
Helped them to sprout among the weeds
And even through dry, cracked
winter skin, watched them begin
to delicately bloom.
Please, do not step on my buds.
I have become familiar
with this body of mine.
I recognized when she spent too much time in the shade,
Scraped up enough courage to be seen again
And even if I had to desperately
drag her back into the sun, gave her
the warmth she needed.
Please, do not block my light.
I have fallen in love
with this body of mine.
I washed my hands clean of comparison,
Let the heavy, battering rains nourish my worth
And even when my mind was clouded
with insecurity, allowed her room to change
with the seasons.
Please, do not cut off my water supply.
You have not been invited
to this body of mine.
Even with your disarming smiles,
There was no place for a snake in Eden either,
And though you feel like your position
gives you the power to do so, you have no right
to make decisions for her.
So please, stay out of my garden.
Biographical Note: Rae Carruthers is an undergraduate student at the University of Mount Union pursuing a triple major in Writing, Spanish, and Sociology. They have been writing poetry as a personal outlet for many years, but it wasn’t until their first semester in college that they felt the push to consider writing more seriously. She is also interested in the genre of Creative Nonfiction, hoping to use both to express personal trials in a way that can be universally felt. Some of her most frequented topics include mental health, love and relationships, and social injustice.