Finding My Voice

 

I had had an awful time

at another birthday party

for a neighborhood kid

wishing the whole time

i was home in my room

on my bed reading

 

The cake had been too sweet

and not even chocolate

There was no milk

only warm soda pop

high sugar rush

ending in headache

 

My mother came to pick me up

That’s why I had to be there

so she could come too

showing off her figure

in her new striped dress

fitted at the waist

 

We stood at the door

as I thanked the birthday girl

for the good time I hadn’t had.

My mother beamed with pride

at the memorized lines

she had fed me

 

I drew in my deepest breath

sensing the power of my words

but saying them anyway

fighting for my own voice

in what, up to this point,

had been my mother’s tune

 

In my sing-song clear child voice

born of icy resentment

i added to my thank you

for the birthday girl

But really at my mother

“I mind my manners, don’t I?

 

Calliope’s Closet