When the lonesome hour strikes
The world comes to a standstill
And no one will protect you.
Your dainty memory wakes,
Howling into the dim night
To communicate desires
Of toil, contempt, and regret. 

What was yesterdays mistake
Is now right in front of you.
Taunting with each step and breath
To sink its sharp gruesome teeth
Into your small fragile mind.
It says, "deal with this right now"
And "don't you dare turn around".

Logic has the best hiding place 
from insecurity.
It sits in dusty outskirts
Located in the back row
At lifes timeline in your brain.
So use your weapon of choice
And beat back the memory.

Its okay,
You can deal with it tomorrow.