In the quiet moments after love slipped away,
I stood alone among the broken pieces of what used to be.
I felt sorry, like wearing a heavy coat made of missed chances and lost warmth.
I thought about times I could’ve been nicer, softer, when things were falling apart.
Looking back, I saw it—the chance I missed to be kind, to make things a bit better instead of worse. The things I didn’t say, the understanding I didn’t give, now whispered in the quiet, saying, “You could’ve done better.”
I wished for a do-over, a chance to pick kindness over being stubborn, to choose understanding over saying nothing. But it was too late. Regret hung over me like a sad song for the things I didn’t do—the kindness I kept to myself in the garden of love that slipped away.
source