In another life.
My self wouldn't be a prisoner of his own regret.
He would've lived his life filled with dreams.
Wouldn't be shackled by the heavy weight of the world.
He'd be in France, exploring the lovely scenery of the things I could never fathom to see.
Maybe he'd be chasing his dreams of becoming a musician.
Touring all over the world with his head held high.
Singing the songs I'd made when I was still young and naïve.
Hearing about the world through the eyes of another.

Maybe in another life, I wouldn't have suffered like this.
I wouldn't be burdened by my own regrets, my wrong doings etched in my whole being.
Now, I only carry the sadness, the anger, the loss, all the hurt that my other selves have felt.
I will carry the burden of all the Me's that's ever existed, in every other universe.

Maybe in another life, I wouldn't be who I am.
I can only pray for them and their happiness.