For the longest time in my life, I had endless regrets. One after the other, they piled on as I grew older. Of course. Because every added chance to live is an added potential of making a mistake. I wrote this poem as a way to work through my feelings back then, but I know even more now; that my past self existed to guide who I am today. No her, no me. I no longer judge old actions with new information.
.
All the lemons I’ve been given life
I have found refrigerators to freeze them
Some French lady, Edith, wrote a song about regrets
And I played that melody twenty and eight times
‘Nothing, nothing. I regret nothing”
“Paid. Done. Forgotten”
You ground me
You move me
Except ‘tis a lie when you’re no longer music
‘Tis a lie when I’m telling you as a platitude
To my crying, drowning self on the blue bedroom rug
Blue keeps me calm
Yellow does not
Lemon freezes stare at me every day through my fridge doors
I can’t get a soursop without glancing at those sour orbs
Even back down at my blue floors
I wonder, perhaps
I do regret everything and nothing all at once
I want not to toy with it any further
I want not time to slip any farther
For even that
I might regret
