I don't tell her things anymore

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


Sitting in the passenger’s seat of the minivan

That smelled vaguely of fast food

Though maybe it was just the Chick-fil-a we were passing

Coming home from some event I don’t remember

 

I bit my lip and picked at my fingers

Working  up the courage to say the words

That stuck to the back of my throat

And rattled between my lungs

 

I tried to act naturally, 

But nerves got the best of me

I stopped and I started, 

Trying to find the way to say it

“Mom, I think I’m gay” 

“No, you’re not.


Submitted: November 03, 2020

© Copyright 2020 MaddieA. All rights reserved.

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