not sorry

I do not apologize for the hairs that rise on the back of my neck

after you unapologetically share your vile opinions

on how a woman should dress

and no I am not sorry for my posture and lack of composure

whenever my favorite song comes on

the static electricity that vibrates off my body

with every movement calm, soft, sharp

a blend of grace and turbulence

I dare not apologize for your inability

to conform to my overwhelming love and nurture

the hugs that could suffocate a child

take away a breath

and give it all back at the same time

that same suffocation

that's longed for

by the loneliest of men, children and women

I am the keeper of the apologies

and I spit into each and every one of them

I sit on the apologies and

defecate pity on the words

longing for acceptance

fearing judgment