alone

...I hate waking up in the middle of the night/or as morning comes. It's 4.37 and outside the trucks, cars and city hum slightly, as much as a weekend can allow, a long holiday weekend at that. You peer outside from the balcony trying to be as quiet as you can, stubbing your toe on that shitty pot that holds a dead plant (yeah the one that the fuck off guy you were seeing gave you when you had a shitty day and he turned up and made you feel like a million bucks - Outside, it's cool, sheer and solemn. The sharp harbour breeze blows in and up. No lights...well over the valley maybe you can see some twinkling lights in an apartment window. You imagine strangers, rolling. embracing naked and ending their night - no longer strangers. I hate waking this early. It's funny...there could be someone laying in your bed this early on a sharp morning, still dark, still in that place where nothing moves except your chest with each breath, but even then at this moment, when it's early like this, you somehow feel so alone.