Somewhere along our literary history, people started to think of Emily Dickinson’s poetry as cute and harmless fluff. In truth, it was far darker and more sinister than surface readings or historical reputation would allow. As is often the case with poets and poetry, things were never as simple as they seemed. Ms. Dickinson was a complex character, and her work often delved into the introspective reaches of the soul. What she brought up was not always pretty or nice, and she didn’t disguise it as such. It just took the rest of us a little longer to catch on.
One need not be a Chamber to be Haunted
One need not be a House
The Brain has Corridors surpassing
Material Place
Far safer, of a Midnight Meeting
External Ghost
Than its interior Confronting
That Cooler Host.
Far safer, through an Abbey gallop,
The Stones a’chase
Than Unarmed, one’s a’self encounter
In lonesome Place
Ourself behind ourself, concealed
Should startle most
Assassin hid in our Apartment
Be Horror’s least.
The Body borrows a Revolver
He bolts the Door
O’erlooking a superior spectre
Or More
~ Emily Dickinson
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