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


Offbeat with the love song I’m singing for him

I’ve always hated when the author told us about a 



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 


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 



“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.