No Medicine for Regret

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At the point just before the sun begins its slow descent, I contemplate how life is merely a string of questions without any clear answers. We’re placed here without reason. We float like dandelion florets in the breeze. Tiny pieces of magic. Brilliant, soft, and then gone. We could spend our lives trying to figure out the reasons why, or we could revel in our time. We could try finding out where it all went wrong, or we could sway like stalks of wheat with our faces raised to the sun, singing words that celebrate the joys and despairs that make our years here what they are. These words of my own. Just when did I realise they would save me, I wonder? Pausing for a second as the fox drinks from a stream, I watch the gathering of faraway storm clouds. Closing my eyes, I listen intently and make out a small grumble of thunder. Looking up, the fox sniffs the air then turns and catches my gaze. We nod at each other, and after taking in a little more water, he leads me ever on. There were times in my life I tried so desperately to make sense of my actions. Whole chunks of time wishing so much to go back and do things differently. To tell people of the love in my heart. To prove to them I was human after all, and not just the mess of a man I appeared to be on the outside. But such a thing isn’t real. There’s no medicine for regret. No way to change past mistakes. The older I’ve become, the clearer it’s been to see that all I am able to do is paint pictures with words that detail my hopes and dreams before this heart of mine beats its last. This is my gift. This is all I have to give. Picking up speed, the fox sniffs the air again and lets out a bark. We’re heading towards the storm. It’s several miles away, and yet I know this is where he’s taking me. Tossing my satchel aside, I eye up the dim flashes of light in the distance and bite the inside of my mouth. Tasting blood, I trail my four-legged friend as he cuts through the wheat, scared of where we’re heading to, yet excited of what I’ll find on the other end.

A Journal for Damned Lovers UK

A Journal for Damned Lovers US

Anthology UK / Anthology US

28 replies »

  1. You may think this is weird but I feel from reading you for several years that you have changed a little lately and I’m not dissing your old stuff at all not at all but I am absolutely loving your new styles too not meaning the older style didn’t work I just feel it’s gone even further. You really are doing some superb work

  2. Hey! Just wanted to let you know that I’m an admirer of your work. You have a terrific writing voice, confident and fluid, and really gravitational. Hell, you really know your way around a story.

  3. I too feel I’d like to go back and let people from my past know I was human, not just that mess of a woman they met. There is always something in your writing that speaks to me, and that is precious.

  4. Your words evoke a nameless energy in my mind that sets off on a course of deep introspection. While at the surface, they still retain that great visual imagery making the whole experience akin to listening a favorite song.

  5. This is beautiful. And being gifted with what you got always is a blessing to others, although sometimes it might feel like a burden. This text resonated profoundly, especially how you described walking into the unknown. 💜

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