Sometimes I wish I was more of a risk-taker,
That I took chances without having to think of the consequences.
Looking back, I see wasted opportunities,
Floating away, glaring and taunting my being.
I hate that I rationalize things and situations
Quicker than a blink of an eye.
There are times that I should have just vented,
Or got pissed off,
Or said my peace.
Instead, I let things go
Leaving wounds that do not heal,
The scab just flapping back and forth
When loneliness sets in and overpowers me.
I enveloped myself in the guise of patience.
But they say patience stretched out is cowardice,
And I think I have been more of a coward than anything.