Regret at



written by: Christina Strigas



I regret what I do
every morning. The night whispered
seduction and there you were.
Open arms and open heart
ready to heal my scars. I regret
what I say every night
after I have said it,
but there I was
lonely and apart
from you.
I regret the way I let you in
those cracks
that day you made me pull over
and tell you what lay buried.
In the middle of the afternoon,
I regret what I am going to do
that night, because I know
fighting you is useless.
I fight the wine, the cigarettes,
the drugs enough, I fight the envy,
suburbia, the city
the cars, the traffic all day.
I fight the war inside my ancestors
struggling to breathe
in a city that drowns
in nostalgia and the past.
I fight the French, the Greeks,
the English,
este tabarnac,
I regret the fights,
the decisions
and still feel like
I made the right choice.
Most of all I regret
never seeing your face
and missing you
by just a few hours.
Everything else is a lie.

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