Caddy Compson

By Thea Buckwalter

Muddy drawers and honey suckles,
Wet ankles and…muddy knuckles
I searched through stains on my skirts and undone belt buckles
Men with smirks and loose ties and soft chuckles
I never found it…
No pulse left
When they touched me I died
Trees climbed and false steps
I gave I crave I slave
But they still say behave
But who’s here to save (me) ?
No one.
Daddy marched him down the aisle with a shotgun
Life’s not easy as the daughter of a Compson
Defines by what’s between my thighs
I used to dream when I closed my eyes
Now it’s just rough hands and fast breath and long sighs
I want to fly
A caged bird who didn’t sing yet
Am I a woman or a whore or a girl on a swing set
You decide.