Sometimes it's too late. Right now it's too late to go anywhere, the street lights are on, the houses are all dark, and the city has shut down for the night. And a couple weeks ago, when you came knocking on my door asking for forgiveness for something you had done long before, it was too late then as well. Why do people always wait until there is no longer any time? Why not come to me in the daylight straight after the deed on your knees?
No, you come to my apartment, hair in a mess, clothes wrinkled, and bags under your eyes so severe I wondered when the last time you had slept was. It was too late. You let me sit with my feelings alone, the thoughts running through my head until I decided what I would do by myself. So why is it so surprising that I hadn't included you in that? You knew what you did, and when you realized I wasn't going to leave my home and find you in daylight, when you knew it was too late, you came to me.
I loved you in the morning, and you hurt me in the afternoon. So why did you come at night when you had that whole evening? It's like the late bus that drives by every night after everyone has already left because they were sick of waiting. It doesn't mean that I didn't want you, I did, but I found other means to get by. I'll probably miss you everyday for a long time until I get used to walking. There's nights like tonight where I can't think about anyone but you while I stare out the window and watch all of the people staggering out of the bar across the street, like you had the first night I met you. Maybe it was too late then. Maybe you were already too far gone. I guess I'll never know because I told you to never come back. Sometimes I wish you would, because no matter how late it is I think I'll always care about you. It's just that I was too early and you were too late. And I left before you got there.
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United States • 22 years old