2024 - 003 Poetry | Poltergeist by Rina Caparras
Skinless, shameless, unsaved,
it wanders. Though invisible,
its presence can be felt
from the coldness in its vicinity—
the spine-chilling thrill that
makes every hair on one's arms
and back stand in terror.
A pen writes without a hand.
A drawer opens without pulling.
A weight lingers on the foot of the bed.
It stands beside you as you sleep,
a gaunt face with dark hair, beady eyes.
Such disturbances never leave.
We all keep poltergeists as pets,
feeding them with the pain
we choose to keep to ourselves.
They reappear only when we sleep,
standing beside our beds,
whispering, whispering,
telling us what to dream.
And we dream of vile things:
You, a child again, a hand
too close to your thighs.
You, a child again,
a belt whipping against your back.
You, a child again.
Notes & References:
- I first found this poem when I started a thread of poetry on Twitter and I realized I am not posting enough poets from my country Philippines. I believed this is the link to Rina Caparras' official Tumblr account if you want to read more of her amazing work: Sister of a Stone.