TIFU by not reading poetry to my mother

background: i was sitting with my mother talking about post-secondary education options. I'm from british columbia, canada, and she wants to send me off to a christian film school in virginia. I've expressed my interest in film in the past but it's not something I plan on doing anymore. anyway, on with the story.

I have an assignment in my writing class to write something every day, however i've missed the last several days. I decided to start a poetry book just to cover up my losses. this is when my mom comes back for discussion. let me firstly say i am a huge fan of Bo Burnham's poetry book Egghead. I love the crudeness and sentimentality in it. he inspires oodles of shit from me. So i was writing something about an emu calling an ostrich 'the ballsack of a failed vasectomy' when my mother inquired what i was writing. I quickly turned the page and decided to read her a different poem instead, something sweet and nice about parents. sadly, she noticed me switch pages and really worried what I was writing about. "Is it a girl? Is it a boy? What is it? WHY WON'T YOU TELL ME?" She got offended. She begged to see my poetry book but I wouldn't let her. She starts crying. she left to go to her room and has told me we don't have a relationship with a trusting foundation anymore. she asked me if i hated her, which i do not, but the fact she would ask me that simply because I have my own life separate from hers is almost ridiculous.

TL;DR didn't read my mom a poem I wrote about comparing an ostrich to a ballsack, she thought I hated her, ran to her room to cry, our trust is maimed.

UPDATE: okay so several hours before this big fiasco i posted on my facebook: "docta docta give me the news i've got a bad case of 3rd degree burns doctor srsly pls send help" and so my mom reads this status just now and tells my dad, "go talk to Michael; he just posted something about burning himself" You guys this is my actual life right now