In the morning I'll be with you, but it'll be a different time

There's a hatch in the graveyard tonight--something between a winged ant and a midge, and they've been caught all around me all evening, in my eyes, dripping from my cheeks, caught in the small white hairs of my arms. The spiderweb on my front porch is hazy with them, and the full moon is shining through, light caught in the grey of their wings: spotlighted. I feel scared and alone, and like I don't understand what I've done so wrong.