A Museum

The Northern Lights

My tears have a habit

of finding me

when I’m alone

The rivers

that hold my pain

wait for others

to disappear

for them to run

in full flow

Regret has found

the keys

to all my doors

and now

it claims my solitude

as it’s home

I find myself awake

at 3 am

tortured by

an embarrassing moment

from decades ago

I can’t change

My mind plays

the moment over

and over again

As my life

slowly becomes

just a museum

of past mistakes

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