secret confessions to my mommy

from by Beth May

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Confessions to My Mother Now That We’re Both Old Enough to Handle Them

1. I tried pot once
And like 84 times after that, but just to, you know, try it
And they say that it’s calming, but I wouldn’t know
being just a bystander to badness
blazed…more off the experience of young illicit dealings than
the actual pillars of smoke billowing from the bong to my lungs
no excuse, but maybe you could give it a go too before you read number two.

2. All that gin that you and dad have but never drink has been replaced by water
But before it was, it greeted the back of my throat, and my friends’ throats with a familiar burn, speed-bagging my uvula with the fumes of exotic priciness until I just couldn’t help but share the good time with the toilet bowl in the guest bedroom.

3. There’s a reason I take long showers but still have hairy legs
and it’s Ryan Reynolds riding me like a prized racehorse until we pass the finish line and gallop some more
You like Seabiscuit? You wouldn’t believe this shit
You can laugh, but as Dumbledore told Harry Potter, “Of course it’s happening in your head, but why does that mean it can’t be real?”

4. Yes, I’ve started my period.
Where else would that hole in your nice sheets come from but 13 year-old me, shocked from sleep by a bedroom murder scene etched on my thighs, trying pitifully to hide the evidence with a pair of lefty scissors and three heavy-load washes while I stole the pads/diapers from under your sink?

5. No, I’m not a virgin
Also this is just to make anyone listening to my poetry think I’m cool,
And I know it seems as unlikely as a direct to DVD Spielberg production
That someone would want to see me, yes me
As unclothed as my original birthday give or take a few pounds
Wriggling untamed on a mattress of missed opportunity
But Atlantis is a mystery too

6. I’m not the biggest fan of your macaroni and cheese
Only the way you spell out “you’re home” with the recipe
Aged and crumbling and bitter, in need of update from its cookbook source material
It sticks to my plate like a bad pun worth keeping when we are at the dinner table
But I’m tired of things getting mushy between us, mostly our lies and our carbs
I love you mom. Please buy Spongebob mac and cheese next time.

credits

from the family arsonist, released February 10, 2015

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Beth May Phoenix, Arizona

I'm a writer/actor living in Phoenix, AZ with an additional poetry habit...Sorry that my voice creaks.

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