Dichotomy

What do I speak of, that has been left unsaid?
Of love, anger, remorse, loss, awe, or woe
I have penned it all, I have penned much more
Of illicit deeds, or grander things, 
of teenage angst, of mature, immature flings
Yet the barrel of my mind overflows
Like cakes of lime that in water drown
Bubble, and fume, like a seething steed
Held back by a barricade, before its freed
I could whitewash my presence and stand proud
Yet the will to do such has run out
It could be a momentary lapse of reason that I loved
Or a crafty arrow, from Madana’s bow
It could be my aloofness to reasoning that I had tread
Into loneliness that I have always dread
Yet in my dichotomy of wants and rejects
I have remorse, but I have no regrets.