for my dad


sorry i couldn't play sports you wanted me to
we both knew that my fate didn't lie in running
or golf,
or soccer.

sorry i couldn't be the perfect sweetheart daughter.
i couldn't pretend to be someone that i wasn't.
dresses,
lipstick,
blush,
flowing hair.
dysphoria.

sorry i couldn't always be happy and smiling.
i knew that you wanted some distraction
from what was happening with mom.
but, it got to me too.

sorry i couldn't be a straight 'A' student.
you knew i was capable of that.
but we knew with my restrictions that i would never earn an 'A' in phy. ed.
"what about uw-madison?" you would say.
and i always replied, "they're just letters."
just letters....yet they robbed me of motivation,
energy,
happiness.

sorry i never said anything you wanted me to say.
maybe that was why you would always hit my face
and never anywhere else.

sorry i didn't have any worthwhile talents.
i knew you hated my art.
you'd come into my room at times to look at it.
and scoff, and call it ****.

sorry i.....


No.


I'm not sorry that I can't be who you want me to be.
I'm not sorry for being who I am.