COMPLAINT 2.5

APOSTATE
by Eliza Culler

It hurt when I lost
god, my unbelief
as real as the faith
I used to love.


There is no
certainty, as
promised—only
myself and you
and what we might
make of each hour,
together.


I have been
told I should
be more afraid,
but the truth is
more a wound
than a void.


I had a lover,
across space, through
time, where now,
I have grief, and
no hymns to end
the silence.


Eliza Culler, 27, lives and works in Asheville, North Carolina.

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