A Futile Regret

You will wish today to be the one I am in this second, this late night moment with my aching bones and hurting heart. You will wish today that you could trade the heartbeats between the then and now and become anything that you were, and leave behind anything that you are. You will wish today that you could be that past instead of this present for I today am wishing that I was that past, and not THIS present. It is a circle endless, that old path you wove and weave with your tired fingers stained with ink. Go to bed, then, and leave it up to dreams. The hours do grow late.