1
0
By Autumn Radcliff
Autumn Radcliff is a first year intending to major in English. She’s a writer and artist from Joshua Tree, California. Her work is inspired by the mystic of life, death, beauty, and feeling.
——-
In some ways, I demand to be heard
I shout, I scream, I scorch your body with my words that yield knives.
When I’m not,
I find it hard to move, to breathe, to live
I’ve spent most of my life in the latter.
I eat fruit in spring and coco in the winter
But my mind stays the same
Constant, everlasting torment
I’m not saying that I’m depressed
That is not the case
It is more like a bird locked in a cage
Slamming against the iron, attempting to dent its armor
I’m the Sistine Chapel
With its psychedelic facade
Fast, rhythmic, thumping
When I try too hard, I lose fast
And when I don’t, I’m abandoned.
I left a tattered old book at your house when I was thirteen,
I haven’t gotten it back
Orange juice dribbles from my teeth
Through the gaps, and into nothing.
In some ways, I demand to be heard
In whispers, in touch, when my eyes linger for a little too long
Is it dangerous to speak?
Is it dangerous to love?
I have no idea but I know that it takes time to be comfortable in discomfort,
To chase down the stars and bring pomegranate seeds to life
In some ways, I demand to be heard
In silence, in thought,
In kindness, in action,
In the coffee cakes I sent to you in baskets
In some ways, I demand to be heard
I demand it
I need to be heard
And I am.
