I wish I was my mother's daughter
The real one, to be sure
I wish I was the baby
To which she had birthed
I see the way she looks at me
With love, but differently
Than the love that I see
When she looks at her real baby
I wish I was my mother's daughter
The real one, to be sure

what do they see
when they look at me
to know the things they think
tears or laughter it might bring
I want to know
but yet I don't
behind the masks of this cruel world
thoughts can hurt or uplift this little girl

regret
regret is the most painful feeling
more painful is the regret you feel
for making her hate you
than the hate itself
regret is the moment
when you are thinking:
this is it; the things I have done
have made it come down to this moment
when I want to end everything
everything that could be
all for the mistakes of my past
all my regrets
gone in a moment
the moment that ends it all
when I will not feel regrets
of what I have done
in the past
and I won't have to be afraid
of the future
that I never knew
nor will I feel the regret I have left behind
for ending everything else
all the good that could be
all gone in 1 moment
1 lonely moment
all because you want to leave your regret behind
but you leave everything behind
and everyone
everyone is left behind
to carry the burden of your regrets
and for them to regret your last decision for you
they regret not knowing
not helping
you
what they could have done
is not have helped you not have regrets
but to move past them
so
you may lose all your regret
to make this decision
and end it
but you leave all else behind
ALL ELSE
to regret your last decision
but
if decided not
you won't regret it
and the feeling
of alleviation and relief
of numbness and comfort
combined
into your being
into your mind
is as strong of a feeling
as the regret
that started your pain
the regret
that this time you chose not to create
DO NOT let the last thing
-the last feeling-
you leave behind
on this earth
in this world
be a feeling
of regret

Let me choose
Let me learn
Let me lose
Let me burn
All my bridges
Let me turn
Down my own path
Paced and worn
By my own feet
Spare me your scorn
By turning to flee
From my own rash choices
Speak to me
But I won't hear your voices
This is MY time
To become who I am