you might be late

i lived within my swaying, weighing mind
for two nights
(one at home, and one alone)
imagining the grime of guilt washed away,
the seashore calling me again.
but these things are here to stay.
people ruined other people
("hell is other people,"
need i remind you)
and yet i managed to hold her hand,
sit by her side and stay.

but you might be late.