Yes!
From an initiation process.
My parents donated sperm and a womb.
With an implantation done.
Allowing my birth and breath to breathe.
With some uncomfortable yelling…
Heard by everyone.
So deliberate,
My lungs stunned!
And from those innocent beginnings,
I heard comments made…
About which side of the family I was most like.
From nose, to eye color…
And hair grade.
‘…he’s got ‘good’ hair like…? ‘
Who I reminded them of…
An uncle, or an aunt,
Or a relative held in ‘Im not speaking to them’
Family capitivity!
With a temperment no one claimed.
Except bestowing upon me,
My father’s first and last names!
With an understated but delared ownership.
I was ‘his’…
When being ‘hers’
Presented reasons to be pissed.
And, of course…
I was the receiver of those, ‘If you weren’t born comments.’
With an occasional running away from home added.
My sister and I were latchkey kids.
So we were the ones left…
Home alone sometimes.
To leave the required stamp of approval,
By a surrounding, dysfunctional environment.
Which upon reflection…
And observed after understanding,
That ‘stirring up’ of youthful independency…
Is the source of my success.
And I am happy as I age,
To confess it.
With an acknowledgement I now can pride,
Were the best years of my life!
‘And here ‘you’ are…
From those innocent beginnings
And here ‘you’ are..
Challenging to have identified,
Your independency.
And its origins that has left you,
Proud as can be! ‘
‘And here ‘you’ are…
From those innocent beginnings
And here ‘you’ are..
Challenging to have identified,
Your independency…
When there is a need to feel you can be,
Challenged! ‘