Regrets

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I have a regret for each finger on my hand.
Each of which I can explain,
But most have similarities.

All of them I want to change,
All of them I wish to tame,
All of them I want to sink.

To the bottom of the ocean they all shall sink,
Into the sunken ship that just lies there,
It all is waiting to be let out, known, open.

Inside my bottle
Inside my mind
Inside my heart

Not wanting to let it go or move on,
My regrets are rotting and causing chaos,
Nothing but trouble and becoming worse.

I want to take it back
I want to make a change
But overall, I want to forget.





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