~ Submissively Conforming ~
Date a cute boy in high school to butter you up,
But in college find a mature guy with a brain.
Take him home to meet mom and dad,
Over dinner and a stiff glass of wine.
If they approve you ought to be glad.
Married by twenty five, kids by thirty,
Golden Retriever, and a Mini Van that’s always dirty.
Church on Sundays don’t be late.
Keep your head on and your voice quiet.
Be yourself like everyone else.
Narrowed vision and a sealed mind,
Packing lunches in an empty kitchen,
Like an obligated slave in her natural habitat.
Messy hair and a traditional bath robe.
You keep yourself warm at night.
~ Cracking The Mould ~
Date a cute boy in high school just to get by.
If you pick a good one for prom, your picture might make the newspaper.
In college: kiss a few girls to get it out of your system.
Parents keep telling you “you’re confused” and “it’s a phase dear”,
While you guzzle beer with your sister and her boyfriend,
Cancelled sleepovers with fake friends, and disapproving stares from your college roommates;
Accused of stealing their underwear from the laundry room in the basement.
You cut your hair off hoping to put everyone into cardiac arrest,
As if hair length has any correlation with sexuality .
Your glass of fresh water splatters onto the floor as your mouth runs dry with thirst.
Desperately realizing that broken glass can make blood run faster than a tap can with water.
The mould is cracking,
but so are you.
~ Solidified ~
Date a cute boy in high school, then break up with him.
Be single for awhile and go to prom with your best friend.
In college: experiment like a chemistry major in a lab setting.
Date a couple nice girls and don’t be ashamed to bring them home for pizza on friday.
Parents start warming up to the kind hearted people you surround yourself with.
Less concerned with whether you’re on the fast track to marriage,
When they see you smile (genuinely), for the first time in years.
Encouraging you to invite your girlfriend to more family gatherings.
Mom tells grandma to get over herself,
Sister defends you at school when people call you a dyke, and before you know it
your Father is at the wharf telling the other fisherman that people can love whoever the hell they want.
My story isn’t black and white,
I’m solidified with color.