11.49 pm

the last train just passed through.
my seventh floor room is quiet.
the air running like a crop-duster engine
whilst my flatmate crumples up paper.
the click of pens
are ringing through my ears -
my old biology teacher
comes to mind:
she hated that sound.
the night time is my favourite,
but lately it has been too sad.
i'm not sure why,
it's been that way for nearly two years.
i just wish i had
someone to share it with.
someone to hold in my sleep,
and wake up next to at dawn's break.
but i am alone,
it is 11.49,
i'm going to bed now.
the rat-tat-tat of my flatmate's typing
will put me to sleep -
if not,
it will drive me crazy.
it is 11.49,
and i am alone.

C.D.S. 14 Aug 2010