Instead of Some Boy

She cried when I told her, 

then lied straight to my voice,

Worried I was not being straight,

With her.

And I sat, crumpled into the smallest possible form,

My own hands hugging, holding

Because she wasn’t there to do it for me.

And she sobbed and asked me,

Was I sure?  How could I be sure?

What about that boy…the one I like before?

And I sobbed something back,

Taken aback by her shocked reaction.

But also in watery relief,

that she still loved me,

even though I loved her.

Loved a her,

instead of some boy,

the one I liked before.

A response to hearing Rigoberto Gonzales speak; dedicated to my mother and making peace with ourselves and others.