Cultivating

feminism

The Journey - The Visitor

This is an open journal about my journey exploring feminism.

10.24.23 — Our local art center, Prairie Arts Center had a spooky/halloween art show this month. They ask other community members to write a story or poem abouteach piece. I was assigned a beautiful ghost picture. It really spoke to me by its beauty and melancholy essence.

The Visitor

By Jenny Bonta

I study you familiarly.

A shallow resemblance,

Same eyes, maybe.

Me, but no.

Your eyes,

Doleful.

Shadowed.

Your voice is merely a whisper.

I see your sorrow.

All that you carry,

The unmanageable burdens.

Insecurity, agony,

Heartache.

Fear.

Your face obscured,

Your smile evanescent.

But your conscience speaks,

Your spirit reaches.

Who were you,

Who did you need to be,

What did you miss?

Before you became,

Nearly invisible,

Sneaking through limbo

Undetected, unheard.

You are here now,

Reaching out,

For something,

Or someone you miss.

What release do you need?

What have you left incomplete?

You are the silhouette,

Of someone I knew.

The empty vessel,

Of a soul I loved.

One perhaps I lost.

But who?

Why now?

Tears swell in my eyes,

And yours, too.

The sadness creeping in,

Like fog in the shadows.

You move closer,

No hands to reach out,

But your soul does,

Just the same.

I do know you,

Though hardly now.

Me.

You are me,

Before I set it free.

Insecurity, agony,

Heartache.

Fear.

Before I chose to love myself,

More than I had ever,

Loved anyone else.

The me I had emptied,

For the sake of those outside.

You are the ghost of me,

And who I used to be.

Before my love found my soul,

And I let my heart breathe.