christine fellows
regrets
I was only seventeen. Hauling frantically On the back of a matchbook. I don't think that I could've looked in you in the eye. So fearful of what I might ignite. But I kind of hoped you'd stayed.  I was barely home a day, plotting my escape With a dartboard and a blindfold. But the dart she landed shy, nearly taking out your eye As you walked passed the window, singing,  Baby please. Don't you go. Bound to choices, bound to hopeless solutions Holding terrors unaddressed. Where's your sense of misdirection? Left clinging to the shreds of self respect.  Would you do it all again, the same way as the first Set of second chances. A stronger one might still crumble underneath the weight of doubt And still decide to run away.  Bound to choices, bound to hopeless solutions Holding terrors unexpressed. With our worn out resolutions we're caught up in the web of our regrets.