I regret you

All the time.  Every day.  I regret you.  Your smell and taste and body and bed and voice. Every day.  All the time. I regret you.

When I think about the day with the blade to my wrist I wonder if it was me calling from the future to say do it,  don't stop.  It doesn't get better.  But I got the measurements wrong and I called too late.  Or too early.  I couldn't stop myself from stopping. And is future me trying to get a hold of today me.  to say do it.  I dare you.  It doesn't get better.