# Behind Me

I never write at night to a shameful end as that’s when the world spirals. Little tipsy, a little of. Emotions exasperated by the tiresome day. I wonder why I don’t write at night then, when the drama surrounds me and you? Am I cautious to avoid the nonsense that comes from the chaos? I stay clear of the truth that by a chance might come through. An inconvenience to everyone. I’m afraid. What if the ‘others’ knew?&#x20;
