Too Late

Some nights,
You find yourself losing sleep.
It’s like you can’t hear the quiet,
Only the voices of your demons.

Some nights,
You lay in bed, wide awake.
With a wetness in your eyes,
But dryness in your soul.

Some nights,
You just want to stay in the dark.
Too afraid of what was,
What is, and what could be.

Those nights,
You realise you’ve fucked up,
And it’s too late to fix things.
It’s just… too late.

— J.M. (2017)

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Author: Bryan Yap

Food enthusiast, amateur photographer & aspiring revolutionary

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