Regrettably;

I regret only

that I have felt regret.

My limbs are to sweet-

to soft

to wonder

about wandering

through my wildness.

I am a lovely raindrop

and though I try

I cannot stop falling.

My hands are made of stone

ice

and wind

and my nature

by nurturing

condemns itself.

I regret

simply

that I have regretted.

Loosely

lace is falling around my face

keeping the image out

yet

letting the light in

a reminder

of what I miss about my freedom.

Caged

contents

of myself

withering

within.

I have become

that silent second

between heartbeats

hiding

hereafter

in the sugary nothingness between us

that has grown

and flowered

like the Lillie's outside my window.

I cut my fingers to pieces

sowing perfect curtains for you

to keep

all that you lack

from swimming to the surface

like floating debris.

I asked

if you wondered

about my wandering

but again

too busy

to repeat;

to forlorn

to foreshadow

my face

to frequently.

I regret

regretting you

and as such

I let the build up

enclose me.

I am either loved

or hated.

I am neither broken

nor whole.

I regret,

regret itself.