I envy those who can say they live with no regrets.
I know I can't.
Whiskey couldn't drown mine out;
in fact, the hangovers only amplified it.
I couldn't swallow it down with happy pills either.
Sobriety has yet to wash it away;
it still haunts me in my sleep
Like waking up on Christmas morning
From a nightmare
Of that one regret you can't get through.
And that, is depression. Dark as Christmas night.