I Was Overwhelmed

The brutality of regrets

Photo by Matthew Henry on Unsplash

I’m sorry.

The words pound on repeat in my head, inescapable. Ravenously eager to be heard.

A lion ripping my mind to shreds — my thoughts a gazelle, reduced to a pulp, lying in the bloody mess of guilt I cannot shake.

I saw you struggling, and I was worried. I have to admit. I even said it out loud.