i can't help but look back at all
of the days i have spent not truly
living and i can't help but feel the
most insurmountable regret one
could ever fathom.
i have wasted my life being afraid
of the consequences of living.
the inevitability of dying.
the uncertainty of tomorrow.
the crushing weight of the past.
and i can't help but pray i don't
make the same mistakes right
now and that when i look back
on tonight in a few days,
i will at least commend myself
for putting down my
insignificant thoughts into
a mess of shitty sentences.