Ghosts:
In Memoriam
flittering through my every waking moment
they come
haunting me with remembrances
i long to forget
bringing terrors i thought lost in my past
they come
a glimpse of the first ghost:
a child already haunted by visions
uncontrollable
tormented by his own desires
and the seething pain,
the whirlwind of anger and hatred
that surrounds him as he grows;
made stronger by the maelstrom
growing, maturing in his own
private hell
he becomes something far greater
and yet much less: me
a demon screams:
“You will never be good enough!”
“You’re a fuck up! I hate you! We hate you!”
“You’re so stupid!”
“You’ll never amount to anything!”
But the demon was wrong…
i pray that the demon was wrong…
another ghost cries:
quietly in its own solitary corner
the fading images of all that the
child might have grown to be…
it looks around, confused, lost
in the maelstrom; unable to see
through the storm
resigned as it, too, is swept up and lost
the ghostly scene opens:
a childhood’s best friend, laying
unconscious, already dead in spirit
held alive by the whir and hum of great machines
screaming silently for its own release
as everyone holds onto it, tormenting it
forcing it to endure the agony of life
with a dead shell for a home
a girl, young and beautiful, in love
praying to a God who doesn’t listen
for the life of the ghost
for everything to be alright
the childhood friend, laying, still a shell
praying that her prayers are not answered
so that he can go in peace, not forced
to live a life where nothing is left
the child-in-a-man’s body, the ghost of myself,
forced to his knees for the loss of his best friend
and somehow forced to be God’s messenger
to the girl, to tell her that God would not answer
that her Love, no matter how strong, was not enough
nor was mine…
was the demon right?
was it my fault, as they always said?
if so, i beg to be forgiven…
i long to be forsaken, if it would mean
He would give the girl back her love
and it would have been enough…
©2005 Russell C. Fryman
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