After those moments when throwing caution to the wind turns out to be a bad idea (a poem)

Monday-morning quarterbacking is sometimes necessary…

When I say ‘fuck it’
and give in
it inevitably
has consequences

memory grown fuzzy
around the edges

a feeling that
repetition and routine
are sure paths
to complacency and regret

There has to be a way
to toggle the switch
to the other side
where changes take

answers become clear
and choices are limitless—
with ‘fuck it’
NOT being one of them

(25 January 2016)