On a whim…

(from Random Musings)

Regret is a carrion bird.
It feeds on the grief of those who have loved and lost.

It seldom flies alone.
Its companion is another scavenger beast — recrimination.

As I walk the corridors of memory, both bitter and sweet,
I feel the air stir with their wings.
They circle close, patient and hungry.

I tell myself I am learning —
how I might have been a better man,
a better husband,
a better soul who held nothing back
from the one who withheld nothing from me.

But what I discover instead is a new sorrow.
It is regret itself —
made of things not done, not said,
and of the hurtful words once spoken.

Together they feast upon the bones of memory,
tearing at what flesh remains
until scarcely a heartbeat is left behind.

They shred the heart and leave the mind exhausted.
And I cry out, no more — let me remember no more.

For a moment I reach for the box
that has kept my memories safe these many years,
and begin to put them back,
thinking I might rest if I forget.

But then I remember:
it was not the box that fed these beasts,
but the silence.

And to return to silence
would only feed them again.