You said you were proud of me
I do not want that.
I don’t want your praise
When I do what you approve of.
If my actions sometimes cross over
To your neatly structured plans for my life,
That is only a coincidence, not a deliberate realignment.
I don’t want you to be proud
Pride is dependent on so many fragile conditions
That I will surely disappoint,
Or make myself bitter in making you smile.
I don’t want your pride
I want your hugs on a tired day:
Gently rub my arm as you press me to you
And let me know it’s fine, humans fail too.