Holy and Set Apart

My friends had lives in high school, Mom,
though you think I did too just because you let me
go to retreats, devotionals, service projects,
lunch at the Dragon Palace
after Sunday morning church,
and if I was lucky, you granted me
a friend or two after school
to watch her parents' satellite TV
or study at her house.
Sometimes I even got to spend the night
if it was Friday, that blessed day
with no school or church in the morning,

but I lived in another world, Mom,
holy
and set apart
from the place where my friends
got their first kisses,
their first heartbreaks,
their first sips of alcohol,
where they had their first sex
and said yes or no to drugs
and learned how to move to a beat
and learned who they were.

Mother,
I had pen and paper, a fantasy life
where my own wishes ruled.

I had a good imagination,
and they had lives.