I hate What Ifs.
That question haunts me, taunts me,
dragging tears down my face
and twisting my stomach into knots.
All day long the What Ifs hound me.
New ones wake me up at night.
What if I had called? What if I had been there?
What if, what if, what if…
The What Ifs are not levers
to a time machine that rectifies,
That deletes, that cheats death.
What ifs can not, do not, will not
And yet, they march, uninvited
Into my day and linger long into the night.
What if they just went away?