Dear women.

Dear women,

These rehearsed murky words have been waiting to come clean; to pass between my lips or fingertips onto the screen. I know I've said this before, and you'll soon know what I mean, oh my dear women I'm sorry. Please forgive me.

I'm not sorry for the times when I said I would but did not call. No, I ain't sorry about that. I don't apologize at all. I'm not sorry I forgot your name when I passed you in the hall, and I'm not sorry I never turned around when you called out "Paul."

I'm not sorry for the nights I came home way too drunk to fuck and looking at my little dick I blamed it on your looks. I'm not sorry that your striptease never drew me from my books. I wouldn't say sorry then and even now I don't think I should.

I'm not sorry for the text I sent but meant for someone else. The one that read "She's too high-maintenance, she can spend tonight by herself." I'm not sorry that we had plans I put back on the shelf but we know you can be a bit much it was only for mental health.

I'm not sorry that it was fucking even though you called it making love under a veil of fornication to hide from Him above. I'm not sorry I took step back to avoid your awkward hug. I'm not sorry for any of this, or anything else that you'll dream up.

No, I'm sorry that we ever had to meet and now I know I should kept to myself when I passed you in the street. Yeah, I should have kept my eyes held firm upon my feet but you know me a little better know, and that doesn't sound like me.

Dear women,

I'm not sorry that you fell in love that was never my plan in the long run of this lifetime I'll be a lonely man. I've come to accept that we'll never see eye-to-eye; that I'm not a perfect man, and for that I apologize.