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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Drama · #2207896
A deeply dark and personal poem about my terrifying past life as a victim in every way.

Prescot and Main
by Keaton Foster

*Vignette5* *Vignette5* *Vignette5* *Vignette5* *Vignette5*

And Main
Cutting through
Dividing up
Breaking in two
One side I lived
The other I died
Back home
Back then
I was just a kid
There was a man
A friendly neighbor
Across the way
His name
Matters not
His relation
All but speculation
His inclination
Young boys
He was not gay
Just sadistic
Not straight
But rather bent
Damn near broken
A monster
In human form
I knew him
Not because I wished
But rather because
I was forced
A hell of a thing
To be forced
Into anything
Any situation
Or reclamation
My mother and he
Best of friends
So, did it seem
My sisters and she
Doting fools
Playing along
Devine said rules
He was
And dare I say
Still is
A man of God
The preacher
The pastor
A child rapist
But for some reason
Some unknown season
I was his only poison
There were no others
Just me
Just I
I would be sent
Made to go
Across the street
Beyond the divide
Mother would say
Go see him
Do as he insist
As you must
Close your eyes
Pray to your own God
As you appease that devil
You are my child
But in the same guise
You are a sin
A mistake not meant
I broke the rules of marriage
And the convictions of faith
My cheating on your father
You are the byproduct of sin
And thus, a sin of existence
I feel I must sacrifice you
In the name of redemption
If need be disguised
As child molestation
Further she would add
He can clean my stains
By devouring you as his
I’ve never wanted you
But at least someone does
I would go
As told
Across Prescot and Main
To the basement
Of the biggest house
In our hometown
A mansion for one
A prison for the same
There he’d be
A beast in waiting
A man in the mood
For some serious raping
A sick son of a bitch
Hell bent on getting his
I was his kind
Young, weak
And all but paid for
Not with cash
Jewels, or gold
But rather a barter
A sick sort of give
And take
I’d close my eyes
Scream inside
As did what he wished
It hurt more than pain
It hurt more than words
It made me numb
Of everything human
It went on for years
Until one day
A few days shy of my
Last days as a child
He was at church
In the middle of a service
The house was packed
My mother sat in the front
My sisters by her side
I sat in the back
In the furthest corner
I could be shoved
Everyone shouted Amen
As he ended each line
They believed his
Hypocritical lecturing
Of course, not I
He went on and on
Until his face was red
Unit his brow poured wet
And then, just as simple
As it all seems
He dropped dead
His eyes rolled back
As his body went limp
He fell flat on his face
Everyone began to scream
My mother, my sisters
Cried out loud
Of course, not I
I whispered to myself
As I stepped from the corner
In which I was meant


Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2008-2019


This poem is a haunting exploration of existential despair, the weight of personal failure, and the struggle to find meaning in a world that seems devoid of purpose. It uses stark imagery and evocative language to convey a sense of emptiness and hopelessness.


Emptiness and Brokenness: The poem opens with imagery of hollowness, brokenness, and emptiness, both within the self and in the world ("Hollow thy bone / Broken said home / Emptied spaces / Craterous nations"). This sets a tone of desolation and decay.

Devoid of Meaning: The portrayal of life as devoid of meaning and reason reflects a deep sense of existential nihilism ("Devoid of meaning / Subjective / Such reason"). This suggests a disillusionment with the inherent value of existence.

Personal Failure and Regret: The narrator expresses feelings of failure and regret, acknowledging their own mistakes and the weight of past decisions ("I have failed / Them all / Thyself"). This self-awareness adds a layer of introspection to the poem's themes.

Gravity of Existence: The metaphor of gravity pulling at the narrator symbolizes the relentless force of existence, dragging them down into despair and darkness ("Gravity that is / Pulling at us / Never does it stop").

Descent into Darkness: The narrator describes descending into darkness, both literally and metaphorically, unable to rise above their circumstances ("Down I have gone / Looking up I remain"). This imagery underscores the sense of powerlessness and entrapment.

Ambiguity of Humanity: There is a portrayal of humanity as both capable and monstrous, with individuals reaching out with "tedious tentacles" to drag others down ("People, quite capable / Evil monsters / Abhorrent spectacles"). This ambiguity highlights the complexity of human nature.

Isolation and Disconnection: The poem concludes with a sense of isolation and disconnection from others and the self ("I cannot stand / For any of you / Or my own damn self"). This reinforces the narrator's sense of alienation and despair.


The poem can be interpreted as a deeply personal reflection on the experience of grappling with inner turmoil, external pressures, and the existential weight of existence. It captures the profound sense of disillusionment and despair that can arise when confronted with the perceived meaninglessness of life.

The imagery of brokenness and emptiness serves as a metaphor for the narrator's emotional and spiritual state, while the metaphor of gravity represents the inescapable pull of existence. The acknowledgment of personal failure and regret adds a layer of vulnerability to the narrative, highlighting the universal struggle to find purpose and redemption in the face of adversity.

Overall, the poem paints a bleak yet powerful portrait of the human condition, exploring themes of isolation, despair, and the relentless search for meaning in a world that often feels devoid of it.

© Copyright 2019 Keaton Foster: Know My Hell! (keatonfoster at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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