Genetic Poltergeist

Genetic Poltergeist

A Poem by Jessica Elaine Stevens [Faiteach]
"

I hear the echoes of their screaming in my ears at night.

"
these days i find that at their end
i am a reluctant sleeper
on a mattress
now half the size-
i inter my broken spirit
rest my heavy head on stoney pillows,
wounded by years of restless turning

my spine aches,
deprived of all it's suppleness
and my mind begins its yearning
reflecting on these repining springs-
the bed that i must sleep in

a mass grave
of wounded ex-lovers
bullied ex-friends
and failed family ties

as a child i grew up
in a house of spirits
always moaning and transparent
their fleshless, drifting souls
ice cold to the touch
i suffered numbness in all my crevices
their wailings in my ears
made a fearful wretch of me

until i learned to light fires
and watch my loved ones burn
just to stay warm

protected by the heat of my rage
i set out to burn the world to ash
only,
the windfalls of all my failures
have surely put me out
now, i must make my way through
this blinding smoke
and pray that when these blackened bodies resurrect
they will be more forgiving
perhaps welcome me underground
to join them in dreamless slumber

but i fear that restless undeath is my inheritance
so i must learn to float
and pitch my voice in hopeless mourning
or find my feet
and stand-

© 2014 Jessica Elaine Stevens [Faiteach]


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Featured Review

I don't know who you are. I don't know your life story. I don't know what you are trying to do. Across 20 states, and I can't foreshadow your fate. What I do know, is that I feel for this poem you attempted. It could use a little airbrushing. Continue writing for you have reached out of what is left of my cold heart. Despite not knowing of your name, I hope you continue to pour out truthful art. As a wise individual once put it, "Art is limitation. The essence of every picture is the frame."

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

Thought it was building to a nasty dismal end, but there is small hope there. Nice piece, brutal honesty is always amazing to read. A bearing of the soul is always difficult to unfold, it's always uncomfortable for all people involved, but that's where the greatest problems are solved.

Posted 11 Years Ago


I don't know who you are. I don't know your life story. I don't know what you are trying to do. Across 20 states, and I can't foreshadow your fate. What I do know, is that I feel for this poem you attempted. It could use a little airbrushing. Continue writing for you have reached out of what is left of my cold heart. Despite not knowing of your name, I hope you continue to pour out truthful art. As a wise individual once put it, "Art is limitation. The essence of every picture is the frame."

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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Stats

360 Views
2 Reviews
Added on September 8, 2012
Last Updated on January 7, 2014
Tags: ghosts, family, childhood, heartache, abuse, arguing, insomnia

Author

Jessica Elaine Stevens [Faiteach]
Jessica Elaine Stevens [Faiteach]

Worcester, MA



About
I was someone else before. I can't remember who. more..

Writing