Why not.
Not why.

My lover has the hand of an artist,
The heart of a poet,
The brain of a genius,
And the ear of a musician,
The most rare mix of beauty and tragedy.

isolation has its familiarity,
as happiness is a drug
yet not as addicting as
misery.

I regret everything.
I regret falling in love.
I regret leaving.
I regret opening up.
I regret hurting so many.
I regret being desperate.
I regret changing.
I regret running away.
I regret staying.
I regret turning away.
I regret meaning everything.
I regret feeling unsafe.
I regret playing games.
I regret loving.
I regret caring.
I regret it all.