Regrets

It's strange.

The little fluttering in the pit of my stomach. The pounding in my chest. The swaying of my soul. All things I wanted to rid myself of. All things I thought made me tame, pliable, weak.

Yet here I am.

Speaking to the Heavens. The Earth. The Wind, the Sun, the Moon. Anything and everything. Hoping, praying, pleadin. Wishing.

Just wishing.