sorrow fills my body but i don't notice
until it's too late.
but when is
"too late"?
is it when my tears are barreling out of their ducts like tsunamis?
or when i can't get out of bed more than twice a day?
or when i don't know if the reason i can't breathe is the weight of melancholy on my chest or not?
or is "too late"
the beginning of it all?
when is it "too late"?
"too late" has a certain ring to it.
it sounds
like when you're rushing to get someplace important but you trip and fall
and realize
that it doesn't truly matter.
because nothing does.
when is "too late"?