August 24, 2002

so what about me

my mousey hair in my eyes yet again,
my ears still stuck out to far
always dropping anything i tried to have them hold back.

and i’m just not sure what i am anymore these days,
but i’m not ‘what i could have been’.
my mother always says, "a woman takes care of her appearance,"
but i have long since lost the luster in my hair and the boom boom in my walk,
these days i make a slow squeaking noise
whenever i walked on the outside of my green loafers.
i can’t believe i still wear loafers.

slinking to one side, scuffing my feet as i walk to the tune of ‘i don’t care’.
and still somehow it doesn’t phase her that i’m not just like her.
questioning my sexuality,
she always did it in a way so she wouldn’t have to know for sure.
"why do you wear your hair so short, like a boy?"
and i'm always so tempted to say something just to get her goat.
"cause the lesbians like it better that way mom."

twenty-six years an she has not changed a bit.
then it was, “bears don’t have purple fur.”
now it’s, “that hair color is not found in nature.”
she still can't see past the candy coated outside.

so when she labeled me ‘alternative’ joking like it wouldn’t hurt,
i knew she still don't get it.
she didn’t see me as a girl with colorful circles hanging from her lobs
that loved everything the way she always had.
she only saw rejection in my passive attitude,
she just couldn’t understand when i pleaded that, “this is me!”

but after wrapping that all up together for her
she still had not found the core of what to believe.
somehow i thought it was easy,
i only asked her to see me.

before - after