I want to trace my family tree:
a suicide in the ‘70s,
a ghost-aunt hangs limply
from her husband’s belt,
eyes swollen, blood-shot,
a haunting whispered
at the dinner-table,
the wounds we carry
but press down
obscene phantoms
hiss in my ears, softly,
while I lay comatose under
bed-sheets, dejected again,
psychic pain of ancestors
at my blackened brain-stem
I want to trace my family tree:
open barred doors
with a rusted skeleton key
enter opaque rooms,
turn on bare light bulbs,
expose repulsive truths
hidden from me
I want to trace my family tree:
I’m fixated, but horrified,
of what I might see.
For further work, visit Fiction and Ideas.
9 responses to ““Skeleton Key” by Nick Pipitone.”
ghosts in the machine
i mean
jarre tu
et toi
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Thanks for posting, Lucy!
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Anytime, Nick! Thank you for submitting.
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Reblogged this on Love & Love Alone.
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Excellent write Nick!
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Thanks Jay!
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Finding your own personal horror story can be less than uplifting. Some very nicely dark images laid bare in your lines.
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So many challenging and vivid images. Amazing poem 🖤
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Nice
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