Sister, they always said we were the bright ones, the ones who were going to go so far, but here we are, only twenty-five miles from the house that wasn’t a home, twenty-five miles from the man who’s staticy voice taught us that we were much less worthy than what we ever were.
Sister, they always said we were the pretty ones, the ones whose smiles were transmittable, but the only thing that seems to transmit to us is our need to not be alone at night, the need to tear ourselves down so we can fall into someone, anyone’s jagged arms.
Sister, they always said we could make it, if we put our minds to it, we could do anything, we could be anyone, but twenty-five miles isn’t far enough from that radio signal of hate, that frequency of terror. I smile but underneath it, I am barely there.
Charles K. Carter (@CKCpoetry) is a queer poet and educator from Iowa. He has an MA in creative writing with a poetry concentration from Southern New Hampshire University and is completing an MFA in writing from Lindenwood University. His works have been published or are forthcoming in Marias at Sampaguitas, Prismatica Magazine, Dodging the Rain, The Mark Literary Review, Active Muse, and Anti-Heroin Chic.