My Ghosts and Me
Don’t go chasing ghosts
People say
They are gone for a reason
Memories swept away in the wind
Ephemeral mirrors of who you could’ve been
The would’ves the could’ves the should’ves
They are all gone and buried
Don’t bring dull shovels to sun-baked earth
To go and dig up past hurts
Unearthing the grave of your maladies
Won’t cure 'em
Let 'em lie
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
Who are they to tell me what’s worth forgetting?
Which ghosts should stay buried?
This isn’t your haunted soul
These shadows don’t darken your door
Don’t tell me which bones should stay untouched
Pieces of my history lay buried in these sands
Without them I’m a bare bones biography
Looking for meaning in the hollow places
Rifling through folds of brain matter
Searching
For just a fragment of my history
I’m a mosaic of missing pieces
Stitched together with guesswork and mystery
Absence makes it home in me
I’m a form created by negative space
Identity made of dreams
My features reflected back at me
My name etched in skin
My blood beside me
Dreams I’ve held so tight I feel their roots in me
Tell me how do I let it stay buried?
How do I forget the ghost? The specter in my bloodstream?
Half of me is sealed behind a face just out of reach
The tenor of a voice lost to the sea
A name spoken like a wound
Or never spoken at all
Forgotten like he isn’t half of me
Twenty-three chromosomes of my legacy
What did he leave behind, besides my eyes?
What did he leave inside of me?
What is him? What is me?
How much of my mother’s hatred is caused by pressing on a wound
Rather than a fresh bruise
Would he have protected me?
Don’t go digging up ghosts they say
But if I let them lie
I’ll die swallowed up whole by the emptiness of me
My lack of symmetry
One side of me abandoned
A haunted houses, my ghosts and me
So I will dig
Even when my arms shake
When the hot sun evaporates the hope from me
I’ll perform seances in the dirt
Scream into graves and brace myself for what echoes back to me
If the truth is jagged, I’ll bleed with my eyes open
If I find nothing, well at least I’ll know I searched
Sought for something
Rather than settled for nothing
Maybe no good will come from it
My ghosts volatile and malignant
Misty figures of history
Maybe I won’t find peace
Just questions with sharper teeth
But the bite doesn’t scare me
These ghosts are mine
And I’ll carry them with me
~~~
When I read this poem, I knew for sure, that this writer has much to share and I believe it is important that she does... No matter our situation, there are parts of each of us that are hidden, but, often, yearning to be shared and talked about... This poem reminded me of my father who I never knew. But, for me, at least I had his family as part of my life... On the other hand, I know very little about he as a person, as my father... How cruel people can be when they tell somebody to "get over it..." or something similar... In my opinion, they don't have the right to do that. Each of us must be able to seek a caring response... Autumn presents her thoughts, now, in an aggressive manner--she is clearly disturbed with being told to ignore some part of her life that is or was important to her. Do any of us have the right to disagree? I don't think so... Unless it could be done in a loving conversation... I'm having that type of talks with my BFF and it is amazing to be able to share openly, freely and receive a response. I hope Autumn finds that friend some day, or finds that part of her that is missing and still unknown...
My only thought is that, Autumn, you might find help from a Man who once lived and is not a ghost, but a friend called Jesus...He has always been there for me when there was nobody else and, really, always... Just a thought...
God Bless
Gabby
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