It’s May and it’s cold. Dreary in an everyday rainy Sort of way. My hair is wet. It’s nearly four in the afternoon And I just put down another Book of poetry. Last night I cried again. I was watching one of those movies. Oh you know the type. Annie Doe falls in love with a girl. Mom kicks Annie out because she can’t accept her. As she is. It was the mother part that got me. I don’t like shutting you out of My life. Yet. I started role playing to myself before I stepped out of the hot shower. That was 2 hours ago. Control, mom, I don’t have control Over this. I know you have dreams for me. Marriage. Babies. I still want it too, mom. But I can’t make up lies and live In a world of pretend forever. Fingir. To pretend. That’s one of my favorite Spanish verbs, Mom. Did you know that? I’m not making stuff up in my head. But I still am fingiendo when you ask About that grad school guy that wanted my number to call But only cowardly texts me instead. I know it can’t work. But I’m not ready to tell you why. I got that cartilage piercing a month ago And you accepted that. This isn’t like that mom. I talked to Sara about all this. Love and accept me, whatever My lifestyle. Remember that mother’s day card? That ‘no matter what’ part? I cried the day found it in the store because it fit the way I had been feeling. Denial. Reticence. Scary, scary. Oh, mom. If you knew, I think you’d support me. But I’m becoming more fearful the longer I wait. I am still me. Wait. I’m more me than I was before. No. …who am I? |