My Family of Choice

My Family of Choice
It’s not that I don’t choose
to love my blood family,
my extended family, my folks…
but where kin urge me to eat
that special food prepared with love
the family of choice encourages me
to remember nothing tastes as good
as abstinence feels.
While relatives would be aghast
at the food I’ve eaten from the trash,
stuffing it in out of sight, eating it all
so the remainder won’t say it was there
the family of choice hears their own tale
when I tell mine, which I can there
for I know I’ll be accepted.
There’s love in both,
of that I have no doubt
but button pushing, guilt gifting,
the need to do it the way we always have
sets the two sides…
and my comfort level with them
on different planes.
armsopen