The Stranger Within. {Poem}

Via Allison Rose Phelan
on Apr 20, 2017
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This is a poem about getting in touch with anger and other aspects of ourselves we may have rejected or repressed. Everything we’ve ever felt is valid. Sometimes the parts of ourselves we fear most are actually our saviors.

The Stranger:

Beneath the chaos I calculate,
The pulse beats of a stranger
Deep down within.
She’s furious about the times I say “yes” and mean “no,”
About the truths I withhold, the feelings I don’t show,
The places I should stop and instead go,
How I justify my demise by lies and by the fact that, once upon a time,
A giant said so.
Her fury burns a hole in my soul.

I greet her:
Who are you?

She’s a witch, and she’s pissed.
She’s a bitch, and she missed
Everything she wanted.
With fire in her eyes,
She stares at every guy
From behind mine,
Asking, “Why?!
Why, you motherf*cker? Why??
Why betray us like our fathers and their fathers before??
Why’d you do that to our moms and to your wives?
To every woman here?
Why ask us to live in fear?
And lies?”

She looks at women just the same!
She says, “Go back to where you came!
Mothers, sisters, dames, and so-called queens that never reigned!
You’re controlling codependents,
Clinging, competing. Be ashamed!
You tear each other and men down in a crazy, losing game.
Then hide, comply, and deny your essence, worth, and true heart’s name.”

“Why can’t you see me???”
The stranger screams.
“I’m so enraged!!!!!!”

Then, she turns to me.
I’m the worst of them all.
Hissing as she speaks, she says:
“You made the fall.
You made me hide.
You ignored my call.
You built the wall
That prevented me from protecting you
For a hundred million years.”

I pull her in close. I beg her through tears:
Forgive me? Please?
Love me again, my dear?

“You’re a fool. Not a chance,”
She pushes me away.
But I kiss her lips. I beg her to stay.
I spread my legs. Then I hear her say:
“All right. Yes. Maybe. Maybe this is the way…”

I embrace her:

And the hot inferno rising turns
To lava, turns to a river, turns to
Mercury, turns to ecstasy
As I cum and she integrates inside.
I am hers. She is mine.
We are one, intertwined.
I am her. She is me.




Author: Allison Rose Phelan
Image: Author’s Own
Editor: Travis May


About Allison Rose Phelan

Allison Rose Phelan is a philosophizing, truth-seeking, fitness-loving, food-loving, word-loving, adventurous, gutsy, hard-working, up-and-coming screenwriter, playwright & poet from Philadelphia, PA, currently living in Silicon Valley. She has been published in Elephant Journal multiple times, has an MFA in Screenwriting and has won 6 screenwriting awards to date. She also teaches private writing lessons on the side. You can also connect with her on her blog and on Instagram.


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