i.

this is an apology
for all the times i have dreamt 
of what it would be like
to touch, to kiss, to hold
a boy, a girl

a person.

my heart is a budding rose, 
violent red and burning with passion. 
i have tried to contain it,
but it has grown too strong.
it no longer wants to
obey.

(i'm sorry)

please know
i never mean to fall in love.

ii.

this is an apology
for all the ways in which i have been 
unladylike.

“are you a man?”
these are the words that leave
your venomous tongue
whenever i slouch in my chair,
refuse the dresses you've laid out for me,
wear my hair up instead of down.

(does it matter?
will you not love me regardless?
am i wrong for this?)

“of course not,”
an automatic response.

but perhaps 
i am not all woman either.

iii.

this is an apology
for all the years i have spent
hiding who i truly am
beneath colored lies and expectations,
not for my sake
but yours.

i am the daughter
you carried in your womb
though not the one you
craved.

and for that
i hope you can one day
forgive me.