who?

had I become

shrouded in memories

haunted by the you’s

of sordid histories

chances taken

squandered

openings disregarded

wilfully missed

to sit here alone

in an old coat

pockets with holes

bare table but for a bottle

sipping on something

to make that last

knowing nothing

ever does

but the eternal of

why?

what?

when?

joined now by

whatever

yeah that regrets thing

there are very few loves I really regret

we’ve all done the crazy people stuff

counted those as steeper learning curves

not to ever do again

but Zoe

I regretted Zoe as soon as we were done

we’d dated a few times I liked her

she seemed to be liking me

& then one night after drinks good times

I fucked it all by fucking her

not one of my more successful sessions

more fumbles half conversations

halfs of is this working?

& afterwards all I felt was low

she was quiet lying back smiling

as it dawned I was her first time

we had made no ceremony of this

& then there was the morning after pill

she needed to go do that

wanted a post mortem later

on us our relationship

where we were going

suddenly all I felt was sordid

all I had were regrets

recognising there was a mismatch

expectations lives lived lovers ways

& none of this could go back in the box

without torn corners tears recriminations

I had in my clumsiness of assumptions

hurt a good person

in not being a fully serious person