Angst

Not mine, my son's.
How well I remember being sixteen and
wanting to break out, push against, and
reject authority.
How stupid most adults seemed at the time..
Well, I don't remember much in the way of
details, but I recall several incidents,and
the intense need not to conform.
To this day I it rankles me to be too much
like my peers..
If I had long hair instead of short, I'd be
tossing it back a lot instead of letting silence
be my mantle, keeping in check thoughts that
as an adult are unacceptable, ones I am unable
to free.
As a mother I am in an uncomfortable spot with
my son.
He doesn't want to talk about it much and when
he does the heat of his words and feelings scorch
my face like the open door on a blast furnace.
My boy, moving ever closer to manhood, is seething
with intensity..