But the Regrets are Killing Me

"Just fragments of another life," he whispered. His fingers tickled the back of my hand. If there would be a tomorrow for us, I would have smiled. He wanted to see me smile. Friends of only hours. Lovers that would never be.

"If she finds out..." I left the sentence hanging in the cold air. It lingered like our cloud of breath. He passed the cigarette to me. I inhaled deeply, knowing it was the only thing we could share.

"Heart, body, and mind," he told me, "They're divided. She doesn't have them all."

"I think she might have the one that matter's the most," I told him with a sigh.

"Body?" It was a joke. We laughed, softly so no one would hear us. Maybe we laughed because it was true.

The night was dark and ground was cold under our bodies. He was so warm. I didn't want to move. Behind us the door blocked out most of the sound. The music was soft. The words to the songs were sad and distance, muffled like the voices. We sat just outside of the light's reach. No one would see us in the shadows. We could hear her laughter, loud over everyone elses.

"It's a long goodbye with mixed emotions." His words said everything I was thinking. I wanted to cry. I wanted to tell him not to leave, not to leave with her, not to leave without me. Our minds and hearts connected. Only a few short glances we knew. Only a few words and we felt it.

"You're not gone yet, but the regrets are killing me." I put the cigarette out in the snow. It made an unsettling hissing noise in the cold. I stood up and left him sitting there. The taste of nicotine still on my lips.

Everytime I see a plane, I wonder if my heart's coming back to me.





fools leave too soon
built to fill roles and fall
standing alone again
distant and dissatisfied

these four years
and how we say goodbye
to these four years

it's a long goodbye
with mixed emotions
just fragments of another life

well i'm not dead yet
but the regrets are killing me

by: american football