another night

Oh, one of those cold nights. Those nights were I stand by the edge of my bed, hands and fingers intertwined, with my head tilled slightly so my eyes could see the moon out of the window. Another night of those, were the shadows I see, bring me unpleasant memories. My gaze always trying to avoid those soft whispers I got from them. Is getting harder to avoid them. But with each time I wanna face them, is always to late, because they always disappear, at the moment I want to face them the most. I guess leaving you behind on your own pool of blood was a bad idea, wasn't it my dear?