29. Sequel
seeing daylight again,
the slate blue heaviness
lingering around
like the fog
of last night
still clouding bloodshot eyes
there’s a memory of tears
floating on a sunbeam
streaming through
the torn curtain
but she doesn’t
know if it’s hers
or the ghost girl’s
yes, that was her body
strapped down tight
inside the spirit cabinet
but her mind
crossed the veil
long ago
bone dust sparkles
on the floor
and sitting up
is a victory
a flood fills
the spectral plane
inside her head
and the oil-outlined
violet orbs of truth
pop and sizzle,
dance and explode
before her,
blurring any hope
from her view
Image by Charles Thonney from Pixabay
Thistle Thoughts 
I find this poem eerie and sublime at the same time! The last stanza is beautiful with a sad ending!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you
LikeLiked by 1 person
Most welcome!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Goodness but this is wonderful.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Tara
LikeLiked by 1 person
chilling and beautiful Jennifer ❣️
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for reading, Cindy 💚
LikeLike
There’s so many great lines in this poem, Jennifer! It’s a really great take on this image, because it’s surprising and yet, I kind of understand how you got to it. Love the result! And well done… you’re almost there ❤️
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Conny 💜
LikeLiked by 1 person
I always wonder which line was the actual first written in a poem like this (I often start in the middle) but oh… “inside the spirit cabinet” and “bone dust sparkles” are lines for forever. 💜
LikeLiked by 1 person
The spirit cabinet line actually came first 🙂 Thank you, Sun! 💛
LikeLiked by 1 person
Incredible writing.
LikeLiked by 1 person