Changing diapers and buying baby food
Not my type of home, nor neighbourhood.
I have been sold the idea of being a parent enough—
It never caught up with me, won’t allow it even if it could.
I despise control, in all forms.
I am not a mother aligning to toxic as norms.
The faux pas of selflessness and all that jazz has worn off—
It won't ever fool me; it's a thought that never warms.
What is my worth is often the ask.
I do not reply to such; it is a foolish task.
I don't care for your acceptance of lack of contribution.
In the proclamation of reduced carbon emissions, I bask.
Who and how you wish you were to me—
Your platitudes of humanity are clear to see.
You sell these prisons of parenting far and wide to us free folks,
While I am secretly what you desire to be.
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