Some Nights



Some nights I spend watching tv alone in my room.

Some nights I spend writing through an idea for a story I had earlier that day.

Some nights I read a book, I mean, most nights, I read a book and get lost in it. 

Some nights I sleep early. Not to get enough sleep. But to shut myself down and not feel. Just not feel.

And some nights, when sleep doesn’t come, I stay awake and think. 

Sometimes, I cry. Not because I’m sad. Or maybe I am. But it’s just not that.

Those nights when I cry, those are the nights when I feel I’m alone. And then when the thought of being alone sinks in, then I feel lonely.

Sometimes, I just need someone to talk to. Someone to listen. 

Sometimes, I’m tired of being the one who always listens and gives advice. 

Sometimes I want to be the one being comforted. And to be told that everything’s fine, that I’m fine. 


And some nights, I just cry for no reason at all. Or for a reason that I don’t know of.