I regret
being afraid
to say yes.
I regret
holding tightly to safety and security,
to the feel of an old worn shoe,
slightly frayed and scuffed on the heel,
but comfortable on the toes.
I regret
clutching onto the day after day comfort
cocooning me, suffocating me
in its sameness.
I regret
holding back,
holding my breath,
holding the exhale,
afraid to let my lungs change the air.
I regret
biting my tongue,
misunderstanding the misunderstanding,
but too afraid to understand.
I regret
the what-ifs and the why nots,
the worst that can happens and
the what can go wrongs and
the this has got to hurts.
I regret
not saying yes.
I regret
not saying anything
at all.
I regret
not knowing what would have happened
if I had said


© Christine Salkin Davis, 2017


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