regret

Y

/ A. Gouedard / 3 Comments

I came to this place
to express my youth.
That’s the truth.
But I’ve watched it all
with a very old head.
All I see is the quick and the dead.

I look back to a path
that’s paved with regret.
I don’t forget.
But I hide in a world
of positive thinking.
I might be mistaken.
I believe it’s not over yet.

If my soul doesn’t die
and fade to oblivion
(which might be welcome and sweet)
on the next path I take,
when I fall through a vortex
and chromosomes gather again,
let me land on my feet with assurance.
I don’t care when or where.
Bone, sinew and tissue are not the main issue.
I already know who I am.
I seek only one vital key
that opens the door to why.

Je Regrette

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

I’m not going to bleed for you, darling.
I have sorrows enough of my own.
I wholeheartedly offered you home,
The one you rejected and left.

Now you must make your own.
I hope you find it within you soon.
My heart is a low-lit room,
I don’t forgive you yet.

Such an insensitive question.
Yes, there’s a ring on my finger,
A simple silver band,
Many long years on my hand.
I wear it for one simple reason,
To remind me I’m my own.

If my words trouble or hurt you,
I am very sorry for that.
I regret.

There’s only one place I escape to at night,
When I can’t get you out of my head.
I have to write.
If not, I would leave all my pages
Empty and woundedly white.