I hold regrets tenderly in my arms
Why am I breastfeeding them?
They have no need for my nutrients
Yet I watch them latch onto me
Sucking life out of me
My blood pooling miserably at my feet.
I must throw them away
How do I let go
If I want to be the best?
I shoulda, I coulda, why didn't I, if only I could go back back back
And make things right again because
IT WAS ALL MY FAULT
And God has to sit my quivering knees down yet again and, as He wipes my tears, he says,
"Or maybe it was part of my plan."
What if my brokenness was supposed to reveal some type of forbidden beauty?
And I was supposed to hurt a little to grow?
Why hang on to these regrets
When God has paved another beautiful road for me to dance upon?
I give the wailing regrets to Him,
And I rush out in my light night gown, free,
Cold, shivering, and ready to taste my awaiting dreams.