Your father will take you out today to shoot a gun for the first time Aiming won't be the hardest part you have to deal with the kickback (metallic jolt in hands and mind) When dad says you'll kill sometimes you shy away from his touch he means to comfort you, but it won't help you escape The rabbit-like part of you screams inside camouflage and foliage against the reality of a forest You will never leave the woods innocent and ignorant of the future
Jennifer Ruth Jackson is an award-winning poet and fiction writer whose work has appeared in Red Earth Review, Banshee, and more. She runs a blog for disabled and neurodivergent creatives called The Handy, Uncapped Pen from an apartment she shares with her husband. Follow her on Twitter @jenruthjackson.
