Regret

Forever burrows in our minds,
Mingling in our blood,
And intertwined.
Waiting till you dig them up,
Till the venom
Seeps into the skin;
Into your pours.
Sifting and realing
In our muscles,
Warning their way deeper.
It's like their breathing.
They spin around in silence
In our heads,
Just wishing for the day
we'd think of splitting our heads,
To reach in an touch it;
To allow it deeper.
Regrets are never to be triffled
Nor could you ever rival.
But I may ask this;
Will they make you writhe in pain?
Or simply slip you further
Into madness?

Author's Note

Originally in a book I had written, on a whim; "regrets will forever burry in our minds, just growing, festering, waiting, till you dig them up for their venom to spred. But will it make you blister in pain? Or enjoy the thrill?" kinda creepy now that I look at it. But I'm experimenting.
Please tell me what you think!