Regret sounds like knees hitting carpet faster than words can travel through a cellphone receiver. It looks like a black left fender on a brown Honda accord. It feels like boulders placed between your joints. It does not leave until you pick it out from between your teeth. It is a filling meal that leaves you unsatisfied.
You must recalibrate your scale, convert the value of moments gone.
Wipe your shield clean, and watch the road ahead.
Asphalt under your tires can fill you to new depths.