My Regret

My regret is a junkie,

knocking at my door hours before dawn,

needing my peace just this one last time,

just to get through the day.

Sometimes I’m too discouraged to deny it.

I’ll listen to it’s repeated ramblings while it’s sifting through my days and nights, looking for joy to steal and destroy.

I am weakened by the loss and the helplessness. It’s the glass that I slam into. always with surprise, cutting up old wounds that can not bleed anymore.

It’s the home movies of my past being shown in vibrant color and nauseating detail. I am a captive audience that laments,

embarrassed and ashamed.

Through many years of tears and pride,

my regret knows it’s unwelcomed.

Yet it’s through those very tears that wisdom has blossomed

and strength grew through the tough soil of my heart.

Armed with these, I can shut and lock the junkie out

and listen to it’s fading, stumbling steps.

Advertisements

About ingridfalconi

I'm a married mother of three and a published author.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s