and its uneven terrain. My father’s to blame;
he came before me. Don’t ignore me. I cannot
charge him with the lies I’ve told myself then
chose to believe. I wanted to be in a convent.
It’s nonsense to be that brave. Your eyes are
like comets. I know what I felt, but not what
to say. We should be at a rave. I know it hurts.
The pain’s an answer, but not the first. To be
worldly is a contradiction. We obey whatever
we don’t investigate. I wasn’t okay. Seriously
J.L. Moultrie’s work has appeared in Hobart Pulp, ExPat Press, Apocalypse Confidential, Bruiser Magazine, Do Not Submit, and Bizarre Publishing House. He is the author of the poetry collection Cairn.