each with their own role to play.
I feel embarrassed
not to have known this.
I feel angry without knowing why.
Then I remember last year
Mum wouldn’t take a day off
to take me to an exhibition
about Malorie Blackman
and the power of stories
at the British Library.
Even though Mum knows
I wanna be an author
and Malorie is one of my favorites.
I made sure to tell Mum
the exhibition was free entry
in case she was worried
it would cost lots of money.
But all she was worried about
was the loss of earnings
if she didn’t do her stall.
She told me I could go
on my own or with a friend.
But I didn’t want to go
on my own or with a friend.
I wanted to go with her.
I wanted Mum to show me
she’s as “invested” in me
as she claims to be.
I wanted Mum to show an interest
in what’s important to me.