And I cringed
within the betrayal,
the sheer audacity of his being.
Coming of age earns no right to
pre-meditating the turns and
moves to navigate challenge,
to contend gracefully with life…
such is my badge.
Today is not the day for me
to bleed from the exit of its prick.
This is not the hour of acceptance,
when accountability adds weight to
mistakes that cannot be undone by
a mother’s touch.
This is not
the moment I
relinquish my instinct
to the folly of desired manhood.
I thought it was understood, but no.
And I shun
as I lay here with all these layers
of me trapped in my bed of desertion.
he’ll rise without my bidding, and
fall without my net, and the
bruising of existence will
begin to take its toll,
as he wishes.