Coming Out To My Mother... About Everything

Sometimes I swear my mother is colorblind
The other day she said, “Darling, if you were gay, I think I’d know”
Well Mom, there’s a rainbow inside me but you see straight through it
I’m a prism in your hands but you refuse to hold me in the light
Mom, I’m bi
But she won’t understand that
In fact, she doesn’t understand anything
She doesn’t get ADD, or anxiety, or bisexuality 
She can’t comprehend my depression, my aggression, my emotional recession 
She complains that I don’t open up enough, but when I explain, she is the one that’s closed
What more can I say
Why does it take a panic attack to realize I’m not okay?
The other day when I told her “Sometimes I wish I didn’t exist”
She looked at me as if she was seeing a new color for the first time and she just couldn’t put a name to it
Can I really blame her for it?
All she has known is black and white and I’m showing her a light she’s never seen in her life 
She sees a band-aid in her hand while I see a knife 
I want to say everything that’s on my mind, but Mother, I’m afraid that you’ll lecture instead of advise 
Instead of comfort
So I keep adding to these lies
And apologize
The other day you asked while I was crying, “Are you suicidal?”
And it broke through my heart like a wrecking ball through a brick building:
Loud in my ears, heavy in my chest, and smoky in my lungs
Because for the first time you felt the heat of my fire that you should have felt years ago
You only see a dull hue, but that’s a start for you
You’re finally seeing me, but you’re not going very deep
There’s so much within this glass skin of mine
I’m trying to shine but you cloak me in darkness in an effort to keep me warm
But I’m lightning in a bottle and I can’t control this storm
Soon I’m going to explode and you won’t know what hit you
The other day I wasn’t okay
And I’m still not today
I’m fighting my way through every minute, every second
So while I look like I’m getting better, I’m slowly deteriorating from the inside out
I just want to love who I love without being judged 
Be who I am and know you’ll understand
I’m so tired of trying to conceal my lightning out of fear that I might strike you
But maybe my electricity is just what you need to wake up
Every day, I set my alarm clock for 7, 7:05, 7:10, because I just can’t seem to get out of bed
Sleeping is the only way to calm the voices in my head
But my antidote is her poison 
You only see it as healing if you’re the one that heals me
You’re holding out that band-aid but I’m running from a knife
When I was little, I wrote left handed
But you made me switch to my right
Well Mom, did you know that lefties are more likely to be artistic, have insomnia, be disabled mentally, have ADD, and be bisexual…

Reviews

[Frantzuu]

You have poured your heart into this. Sometimes expressing how we truly feel deep down inside is the best medicine. We have to make peace with ourselves, and learn to love who we are without expecting others to love who we are. Sometimes the people closest to you are the ones who miss understood you the most. Great piece! Keep writing!