REGRET.

REGRET.

I stumble.

I fall.

Into the past.

I wish things were different.

I know there is a reason they are not.

More than one.

I clean away the cuts made from traps of my own making.

The regret a strange painkiller.

Numbing the aches and pains.

I know it is temporary...

But I need it.

Or... at least I thought I did.

I get trapped again.

This time, between the need to be heard and the desire to stay silent.

Stay respectful.

Stay generous and gracious to every version of me.

Regret leaves no room for repetition.

But self pity... is an unending vicious cycle that has held me captive and torn me down too many times.

Yours faithfully,

Sam Qavah John.

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