The grass on the other side really isn’t all that green, and the romance in the air defeats the purpose of hindsight.
To live, is to regret. To not live, is to regret. But, what would you regret more?
In trying to relieve pain, I come face to face with a painful memory I realised I had never addressed.
Sitting by the ashes of my trust, waiting on a phoenix to rise, or a strong wind to blow it away