I know I need to learn
To push my troubles
To the side and worry less,
But every day they
Line up one by one
In front of me
And state their case
And why they’re going to stay.

I feel helpless as they either
Yell or quietly whisper
“I’m going to take over your life.”
And I seem to lose my voice
And can’t even find a “*******,”
For them.

By the end of the day
There’s a single-file line behind me
And they call themselves
“Regrets.”
But I could take them on
Two by two or
Three by three or
All at once

Because at this point
I’m just trying to get to sleep.