An excuse with reasons to believe her
has driven the desperation past the lives
that our romance will soon destroy.
Our parents raised us better than to embrace
short-sighted nights tangled in bedrooms sheets
or staining seats with sweaty sex
after the stars twinkle in applause,
in her mother’s Jeep.
Behind my back, her mom speaks
through both sides of her mouth
to make me someone I don’t even agree with.
She spills her rant over shaded emotions until, with me, she agrees.
I’m the person her daughter loves and will love evermore.
“I don’t want you to be hurt,” her mother said.
“I want you to be as happy as your father and I are, and now I know you will be.”
Twitter – @AC0040
(© 2023 AC)
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