You say I'm "reckless."
I take the subway alone at night
And walk past alleyways
I bike without a helmet
and accept rides from strangers.
I travel alone
to faraway places
with governments
America has flagged
and stay with strangers
I met on airplanes.
I have had casual ***
with lots of men,
I get my heart broken
from those who don't give a ****.

You say I'm "reckless."
My apartment is in a rent controlled complex with sneakers
stuck on the wrought iron fence.
I have water and electricity,
but not internet.
My neighbor was
in a hollywood gang
back in the day
The rest speak Spanish.
I find myself justifying
to you it's temporary,
but secretly am upset that
it will be torn down
just as I finish decorating.

You say I'm naive
when I say there is no evil —
just broken people.
It is people like you
who break them.
You say I'm idealistic
when I don't feed the system.
Why not eat the same rotation cause
it's efficient. *******, daughter!
Follow the recipe!
You say I'm "reckless,"
but I am just living,
and you are a scorpion
poised to attack
anyone who turns over
the rocks you live under.

When you say I'm "reckless,"
I flashback to moments
I'd never sting you with.
Like the time I opened
the window screen
and wondered how far
the fall would be,
crouched upon
a second story balcony.

No, I am not "reckless!"
I just can't understand
The point of fearing death
Or pain
Or suffering
The best art
is created by the ill-content,
the gonzo
the sociopath.
So why not let them live?
Please...just let me live!
Cause I can't take
your eyebrows raised
and the turned-down corners
of your pursed lips,
fearing I am "reckless."
Worried sleepless.
Your puffy purple eyes,
assuming I am floundering,
repulsed by marriage or a salary.
You should just accept
I will never have social security.
As a child...
you taught me I could be anything,
but frowned when I said I liked poetry.
To you, anything meant
a corporate ingenuity
To you, warriors
work hard and succeed.
They needn't take risks,
just business classes.
You wanted to pay for them
and then dine at
an overpriced restaurant afterward.
But I prefer the Bolivian markets.
I want to take you,
but you say it's dangerous
and you'd be rude
to the waitresses.

I know, when you say
that I'm "reckless,"
you are protecting —
a supportive parent.
But saying I am "reckless"
is starting to become overbearing.
You can stop now.
Cause you wont.
Stop it.
You will not **** my instincts,
only augment my rebellion.
You will not make me
in your image 'cause
I don't want to be like you —
Complacent in a bubbled,
grass-fed existence —
cows may live in comfort
but all they do is
pollute the environment.
The day I fear
is not your judgement,
but the day I stop living
and just say people are "reckless."
Even though I never
talk with anyone different.

No, I am not "reckless."
I ride the bus
and forget my headphones
I meet strangers
who become fast friends.
I learn about a world
filled with joy and happiness,
and pain and suffering,
and I love it ALL.
And I will continue to love
all the "reckless" things too,
just as much as you love me
when you tell me:
"Now, don't be reckless."