two heads with vendetta- conspirators hanging on my room
today as i drink milk straight from the box in front of a cockroach frozen at the kitchen cupboard, thoughts of fallback, empathy, survival, regrets and the selfishness of the heart pass back and forth my mind.
the words: “you can only regret what you don’t do” flash from my memory bank.
milk stains follow my mouth as i force a smile.
before i finished my milk, i remember my discussion with a dear friend about pride; that when you are breathing with pride, you have to set a timeframe, a deadline because pride suffocates and it slowly kills.
“ok, if he doesn’t call in 3 days, it’s over.”
something like that. why the deadline? pride suffocates.
the cockroach never moves from its place. i wonder if it’s dead or just playing dead.
or it could have suffocated from pride.