february 15, 2020
poem by Natalie D.C.
content/trigger warnings: discussion of mental health, implied depiction of physical abuse, mention of blood
note from the editors: we believe the unique spacing of Natalie D.C.'s poem is an integral part of her vision for this work, so we encourage those who are able to view the poem on a desktop web browser. for those viewing the poem on a mobile browser, we've included an image of the poem below. Natalie has also provided a vocal recording of her poem, which you can listen to and download below as well.
stream
download
image of "february 15, 2020" by Natalie D.C., with spacing as originally intended by the author, intended for readers on mobile devices. people on desktop browsers can read it below; those preferring an audio version can listen or download above.
The Green & Red House, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, February 15, 2020: “Chapter One: Suzie, Do You Copy?” of Stranger Things Season 3 plays, abandoned, in the upstairs bedroom. Below, voices escalate, “That’s All” by Genesis playing on a forgotten pair of Bose speakers in the dining room.
Crickets chirp in tune with the crack of the vomit-orange-green kitchen towel,
whip, whipping! into the night, sending
birds aflight. This includes the munchkinboogerGigiNanas who
now know nothing save for slippers slapping
against hardwood floors. i’m
on the floor. Burgundy beret left with abandon as i’m
cornered by an angry bull, stirred into action by the crack of the whip,
Wait, i thought they only hated red?
It doesn’t matter anymore. i’m
hoisted up, i’m
thrown down, i’m a
butterflyprincessninjafairygirl sprinkled in blood & spittle. My feet,
G-d bless them, take me upstairs where
there’s a little girl cowering in the wrong room.
“Gigi, Do You Copy?” i rasp into an invisible walkie-talkie.
She hears me. She’s beneath me. She bequeaths me with
a curse.
All because i cursed.
Crickets chirp in tune with the “Fuck” that rings out from the good girl,
the one who never speaks or, when she does,
never concedes.
About Natalie D.C.
Natalie D.C. is a 19-year-old artist and writer based in Pittsburgh, PA. Her writing grapples with her erratic mental health and paradoxical queer half-Moroccan identity. She has been published in RMU’s Rune, The Echo, Porridge Magazine, Pile Press and elsewhere. When she isn’t busy working towards her BA in Public & Professional Writing, you can usually find her re-reading her favorite book over and over, watching K-dramas with her little sister or filling her walls with anything and everything that makes her smile. Her debut poetry chapbook, blue pearl, is available for purchase from Bottlecap Press.