May Day

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?