I believe regret to be…
a feeling, a memory
of Life welling in me.
I have been doing a tremendous amount of self reflection.
When was it that I became “broke”?
Was it as a child?? Knowing my father was abusing my Mom… beating her? Beating our pets? Or when I was abused by strangers?
Or maybe at birth…
perhaps born so amazingly
perfect and broken?
Perhaps they all play a factor.
I have no clue.
Distance envelops me…
~written and posted 8.1.2011
They can all get fucked… just stay true to you. ~Marshal Mathers