THE APOLOGY

She never wanted was forgivnees.

At first, it was no more than a fleeting thought. A whisper in her chest she could swat away with logic and pride. But it didn’t stay small.

It grew. Like a tumor, uninvited and uncontrollable. It entered her bloodstream and invaded the quiet spaces between her ribs, burrowed into her lungs, and curled around her spine.

It distorted her sleep. Twisted her dreams. Her reflection became unfamiliar, eyes too wide, she was tired from holding back the flood. Before she could contain it, it began to ooze out of her. Through her pores. From her eyes. In sighs she didn’t mean to release.

Then came the explosion.

It erupted without her consent. Mid-conversation. Mid-step. Mid-denial. It spilled across the floor, she hadn’t meant to say any of it out loud.

She wanted to rewind. To choose differently. To build better walls, stronger armor.
But now, now all she wanted was forgiveness.

Mostly from herself.