(Photo via Karl-Petter Åkesson)
No, I won’t apologize anymore.
Not for loving too much or too fast or for too long or for not long enough.
Not for bleeding my heart into these sheets while you are sleeping and making the bed over the stain.
Not for trading in the currency of my skin and then going bankrupt at your touch.
I will not apologize for the way I make you feel and the battles you wage internally.
Your defenses like state lines. The boundary invisible, contrived.
I will not apologize.
I will camp on the outskirts.
I will bide my time,
practicing pathetic and
staring at my share of the stars.