i can't help but look back at all

of the days i have spent not truly

living and i can't help but feel the

most insurmountable regret one

could ever fathom.

i have wasted my life being afraid

of the consequences of living.

the inevitability of dying.

the uncertainty of tomorrow.

the crushing weight of the past.

and i can't help but pray i don't

make the same mistakes right

now and that when i look back

on tonight in a few days,

i will at least commend myself

for putting down my

insignificant thoughts into

a mess of shitty sentences.