Trying to explain to a disappointed mother
On Sunday evening on the train
Why, periodically, you sniff cocaine
Was not the pleasantest of things.
At first I was furious with your so unrequested for of an act, brother.
This me I shared with you was not for further sharing
Especially not with any mothers.
A me for me, made by me to deal with only by myself.
Yet you trampled over my privacy Viking like
And waged your siege, consent less
Even if your boots were soiled with the purest of concerns
Such unsolicited action violates heavily.
In hindsight, I must admit to having felt somewhat relieved
My faint attempts of call outs have finally been answered
Confronted by her involvement in this as well, did not feel any good.
Maybe it’s best that mothers know.
But still, I expect brothers to respect borders.
That night I dreamt of being chased by a fanged snake.