in the
middle of a feast or party,
suddenly hearing
no music,
no laughs
and shouts.
the taste of
your drink weak, bland.
its burning
down your throat just a gray,
distant
memory,
from a
moment ago.
your
cigarette just a stick soon to be ash.
the clock
ticking ever so slowly,
with each
single chest muscle pulling ever so tightly.
next time
you find yourself
thinking of
what could have been,
stop,
say “fuck it”,
and have a
drink for me instead.
I promise to
do the same for you.
______
regret by Dimitrios Kokkinos is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.