Regret

Regret not dancing under the diamond spotted dark sky at the pier.
Regret not climbing onto your lap on the park bench at Fort Tryon.
Regret not taking you into me by the river on that picnic table at Dyckman.
Regret so many moments where we could have devoured each other. 
Like in the car by the diner or walking down from the Cloisters or
By the lake in Jersey.
Regret not telling you how I truly felt.
Disbelief that you walked away.
Angry that you didn't want me the same way I wanted you. 
Regret is a horrible way to live and feel. 
Makes me feel like I allowed myself to be used only for your own satisfaction.
How am I supposed to pick up my head and move forward.
When does the desire die away?
When does the idea of you disappear? 
When will there be a day I don't think of you?
Regret is a suffocating notion, like being buried in wet sand.  
A cool reprieve, but a heavy crushing weight.

Oct. 8, 2014 @ 2am.

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