Sonya Sones wrote
a book of poems
that pulled me in
that didn’t bore me
that made me smile
and remember what it is to be fifteen
Sophie is the girl you route for,
the too tall sweetheart who wants to experience
and eventually finds it in an unexpected package.
Each poem stands alone
as a brief anecdote of teenage thought,
and together they span a year of growing up.
A year of secrets that keep a mother and daughter distant.
I thought to myself, if there was ever a time I kept secrets from my mother it was when I was fifteen.
This is what she didn’t know:
I let A, we’ll call him A, put his hands down my pants…
I drank something brown that stung my nose from a water bottle and swam in my undies on a hot summer night.
I was always where I said I was, except if A was involved.
I lost your llama pin.
I tried on your garter belt and wore your thigh high stockings.
I desperately wished to be sexy.
I felt so awkward.
I wanted to grow up, I wanted boobs, I wanted the house all to myself just for one night so A and I could be naked underneath my purple sheets, but you never went out, you never allowed boys in my room. (A very very wise move).
I never wanted you to give me the sex talk, I thought I knew everything.
But I didn’t.
Sophie equally cherishes the distance between her and her mother and yearns for her to reach out.
What she doesn’t know is that her mother was always there,
waiting for the right moment,
to be the ear, to shoulder, the confidant.
That must be so hard,
to pick and choose the battles,
to watch your child hurt and know they must grow on their own.
Mom, you were an awesome mom.
I like a boy mom.
He makes me feel like I’m fifteen again.
Last night we kissed on a swing set.
And we kissed and kissed and kissed and he was too big for the swing so he pushed me higher and higher and when I was too high he pulled me back again.
We talked in funny accents mom. We talked in drawls in between kisses and made each other laugh.
He makes me feel like I’m fifteen, but I’m twenty,
I’m twenty and I remember everything you ever taught me.