Regretfully, I Still [XXXX] So
If only I could have told you, oh rotten seed, of how
your triumphs will be mere insignificant worms. And
if only I could have told you, oh mangy rat, of how
your failures will laugh loudly with serrated teeth.
But would you believe me? “Why, yes,” you would say; why else
would time be wasted on you?
Time, who’s disappointed.
But would you believe me? “No. No!” you would also say, because
thinking of the future hurts
worse than knives.
But even so,
I wish I could say
that tomorrow is clear and
that Earth’s gravity doesn’t weigh so heavily. But even so,
I wish I could smile.
Say, “You will be fine.
Cross my heart and hope to die.”
If we could
talk, as hummingbirds instead of
as parasites and leeches, you
would hold your breath out of habit. If we could
laugh, like carnivorous spotted hyenas, then I would teach you
to be loud and how to wail.