i can't help but look back at all
of the days i have spent not truly
living and i can't help but feel the
most insurmountable regret one
could ever fathom.
i have wasted my life being afraid
of the consequences of living.
the inevitability of dying.
the uncertainty of tomorrow.
the crushing weight of the past.
and i can't help but pray i don't
make the same mistakes right
now and that when i look back
on tonight in a few days,
i will at least commend myself
for putting down my
insignificant thoughts into
a mess of shitty sentences.
YOU ARE READING
The Rose and Her Thorns
Poetrya collections of thoughts, feelings, emotions that have been put into words and that have been gnawing at my brain. check out my other poetry book 'among the wildflowers.' ••• poetry collection explicit language all rights reserved completed O6...
