Regrets

I was only seventeen. Hauling frantically
On the back of a matchbook
I don’t think that I could’ve looked in you in the eye
So fearful of what I might ignite
But I kind of hoped you’d stayed
I was barely home a day, plotting my escape
With a dartboard and a blindfold
But the dart she landed shy, nearly taking out your eye
As you walked passed the window, singing
Baby please. Don’t you go
Bound to choices, bound to hopeless solutions
Holding terrors unaddressed
Where’s your sense of misdirection?
Left clinging to the shreds of self respect
Would you do it all again, the same way as the first
Set of second chances
A stronger one might still crumble underneath the weight of doubt
And still decide to run away
Bound to choices, bound to hopeless solutions
Holding terrors unexpressed
With our worn out resolutions we’re caught up in the web of our regrets