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  • Regret Nothing

    Regret nothing.
    Not the wrong turns that you drove blind
    on Tequilla Sunshines or cheap wines.
    Not the cold lover that you left shouting
    in the underground parking of a nameless hotel-
    the one you beat to the punchline, the door, or the one who left you in barefeet
    because she took your shoes,
    the ones that crimped your toes,
    don't regret those.
    Regret nothing ...
    You were meant to inhale those smoky nights
    over a bottle of flat beer, to step over
    the broken glass and melted remains
    tossed like land-mines across
    those dirty burnt floors.
    You were meant to drive the used car
    that would not start -
    with it's frayed tires and it's loose wires.
    You've walked these streets a thousand times and still you end up here. Regret none of it, not one of the wasted days when you wanted to know nothing,
    when the lights from the city
    were the only stars you believed in,
    loving them for their uselessness, not wanting to be saved.
    You've traveled this far on the back of every mistake,
    ridden-in dark-eyed and morose
    but calm as a house after the TV set
    has been pitched out the upstairs window.
    Harmless as a broken ax.
    Emptied of expectation. Relax.
    Don't bother remembering any of it.
    Let's stop here, under the lit sign on the corner,
    and watch all the people walk by.
    One of them has got to be kinder.

    by: KauilaPolu
    Without Regrets!
    Colleen McQuaid

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