Sincerely, Her Son

Sincerely, Her Son

by Logan J. Alexander

I am the ghost she taught me to be—

there’s safety in invisibility.

Follow the rules, follow the rules, forever changing

or pay her consequence in wounds.

A child, rendered invisible.

Her hands, my collar, my back, her wall.

I am the ghost of her American dream

A distorted carbon copy

she pins with harsh words and

bitter disappointment.

I am a ghost but I still feel my body.

If they do not see me does that dissolve

my existence? Am I real or am I

a figment of my own imagination?

My fingertips dance amongst my ruins,

I still feel me.

I am a ghost, and I am—

a son, a writer, the daughter

I never wanted to be,

a student, a human,

a ghost, a ghost, a ghost.

A man, shedding suffocating skin.

Trans-lucency promising me a home,

I pull on my ghost in silence,

a frayed sweater over my head.

Haunting these four walls,

this is my solitude.

Am I a figment of my own imagination?

Allie Carroll - Ashes, 2019

Allie Carroll - Red Sand Beach, 2019