The moon looms, interrogating me.
“What are you going to do, my child?”
I withdraw into the tangled roots of the forest bed,
sitting in the cupped branches.
That’s where I find my solace.
This is where I consume their wisdom.
They shake words of encouragement over me,
“You mustn’t let the moon frighten you,”
they whisper, “many have walked this path before you.”
The moon has been chasing me for years,
when my first blood revealed itself to me, and
Mother said I was about to embark on my calling.
The moon mimics Mother, “This is what my little girls do,
this is what you were created for; populating souls for me.”
I question her motives, aren’t there enough souls for her already?
The moon screams at me that I am running out of time,
I will soon fall behind the others, my attraction will fade,
I will soon drop to my knees, tormented by regret.
I ask the forest if someone told the moon to shut up.
Their whimsical arms wrap around me,
they promise to hold me for as long as they can.
“The moon’s light can reach every crevice of the world”--
it’s a warning, disguised in an enchanting whisper.
Lisa Wood is a graduate student in the Clinical Adult Psychology Department. She plans to work within the Forensic Psychology field after graduate school. She enjoys reading (of all genres), watching true crime documentaries, writing short stories and poems, and hanging out with friends/family and fiancé in her free time, as well as playing with her cat, Phoebe.