Write about a good thing gone bad...

Do I start with my heart or end with my soul and a bunch of other stuff I dare not name as it is night and my memories return unbidden with the journey of the moon to other side of the world where it leaves me open, endangered and to run I do not dare; for the clock ticks away, my sand shifts and the hourglass won't turn and yet still I am not a better person.

Now you see, I wrote that about a year ago. How has a year gone by and for all the progress I made I still feel like I'm not doing enough? Reminds me of minorities being pissed as Hollywood portrayals. When even the ghosts in my head tell me I can never even become.

So I lay here at 2;41am. Waiting for the morn. For the sun that will shine and the smiles in their eyes as they crinkle. Where I go about my day and pretend that I'm definitely a good person.