Nights like this

My loneliness made me feel the length of nights,
and my conscience made me notice their gloominess,
and in a night as long and gloomy as tonight, I find myself surrounded by the most hideous of memories.

Was I good until I made mistakes, or were those mistakes simply an expression of a deficiency that was always within me?

Should I hope that I would enjoy the sunlight tomorrow?
Or should I fear that it would make my inherent flaws more visible to me and to everyone?


One thought on “Nights like this

  1. Pingback: A long short story | averynormalblog

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