pigeons with glass shards in their wings

time flies differently when you
stand alone in a
room and think
about the past with
regret

Pigeons with glass shards
in their wings, reflecting
sunlight in their fall. That's how time
moves lately

“It's gotta be a long time ago,” he
said. “I know it's gotta
be a long time ago
because the times I've thought
about it were so
damn numerous.
I was just... Just walking back home
when I saw her.
On the side of the road, covered by
her black hooded jacket.
Black stockings on slim legs.
In high, black boots with elevated soles.
Her face totally concealed by the
shade of the hood.
Yet as I passed by her
I saw the paleness of her features.
Big eyes locked with mine. A cold snap in
my very soul.
I just... kept going. Too afraid to even
look back.
And the more I walked ahead and
the more I refused to look back...
The more I regret.
Today,
I am here.”

“What's there to regret?” asked the
cold air in the room. “She could've
been a ghost. You could've
been dead by
her hand now.”

“I know,” he said. “I will never
forgive myself
for walking past. Never.” 

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