I stand alone,
but not quite secluded,
in a comfortable peace I never knew I could feel.

I consider.

All that I could be
if I just tried harder.

Everything I used to be,
something I now regret.

Who I am,
and who I’ve let down.

I stand at the window,
a different place than it ever used to be,
something so wrong, turned so right.

5 minutes past midnight
with tiny lights above my head.

A long-empty bottle to remind me,
and a cigarette,
as always.

Forgive me.

My thoughts turn to you.

To us.

And the things which always
meant more.

Tiny lanterns hang in the sky,
despite it all.



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  1. Wow, I can so relate with the chain smoking while writing statement. I don’t exactly chain smoke but I do smoke more when I write :) But that’s beside the point, your poem is very, very good and very sad. Nicely done though!! Blessings, Terri


  2. I have a philosophy that everything we’ve said and done up to this moment is the sum total of what we are. Good stuff, or bad stuff, it’s all in the past and can’t be undone. The key is to accept who we are right now and move forward. There are no do overs, but there are fresh starts. That’s another of my philosophies: every minute, every move, is–or can be–a new beginning. In fact, it IS a new beginning, whether we like it or not.
    I don’t know why I thought I needed to share all that with you. Pardon me, if I’m out of line in doing so.
    Your poem is wonderful, though tinged with sadness. But that’s okay, too. The best poems are the real ones–the ones that bare it all.

    My story for week 12:


  3. Don’t worry about being out of line; I agree with your philosophies. I try not to regret, because everything which has happened has brought me to this point in my life. I’m a huge believer in fresh starts, I’ve reinvented my life many times. Not always the healthiest thing to do, but it allows a totally blank slate. Sometimes you really do need to start again, from scratch.

    I look forward to checking out your story.


  4. It would be so great if we could step into the past and rearrange our choices. However, we cannot do that. I like to think that I never make mistakes, only unwise choices. We always have the option to choose, and then to choose again. Life is filled with choices. Look at it as an adventure. Your poem is very good. Thank you for sharing it with me.


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