as if every fiber in my body is a rubber band
stretched tautly over too-big bones.
I’m terrified that they’ll soon snap;
that I will fall to the floor in agony
I pressed my ear
against the Earth,
swollen with the Sky’s tears
And heard not the booming voice of God
but the whisper of a more gentle deity:
I think my mother, secretly,
is a little disappointed that I
am not more well-mannered:
I lack Meekness, Humbleness,
and any other nice soft-spoken quietly helpful trait
I am supposed to have
in order to be a Nice Girl
who is universally appreciated
who does not get in anyone’s way.
My mother, I think, feels
that she has failed to prevent me
from the tragedy of turning out
exactly like her.
if i ever get married i am gonna be too embarrassed to kiss my husband in front of everyone, especially my parents, so we will probably just high five or something