The platform is cold,
Numbingly uncomfortable,
The 15:03 train is delayed,

Good.
I would rather wait in the bitter cold
Than return to reality.
It finally arrives,
Sighing as its engines
Relinquish all strength
It has to carry on.

I chose the longest journey to London,
Every stop,
Every pause in tine that I can temper
Linger in.
The fatigue may settle
And my hands may quiver,
But the memories of this week
Are irrevocable,
Laughter,
Friends,
Alcohol,
It was bliss to say the least,
But all good things must come to an end.

There is still the journey through the underground,
Maybe I could lose myself in a sea of commuters
And culture?
The urban rebels
And buzz of tourists who yearn for adventure?

The only thing that propels me
To step off the platform in the first place
Is the thought of ending up in his arms
By the end of the evening.

It was not sadness
That caused the tears to fall,
But the transcendent fear
That belittled the crushing
Weight of the world.

The gentle rocking of the boat
Was the only thing that reminded
Me that I hadn't died,
That I hadn't plunged beneath the
Very waves that swayed me softly,
It still burns vibrantly in my head,
The fire,
The agonising cries of metal
And people intertwined
Until their heads were under the surface,
There was nothing I could to help,
I let them drown,
Let them fall to the dark depths
Far beyond the reach of the moons rays
Trying to grab them and haul them back
To life.
I am left alone,
Nestled in the neon orange lifeboat,
The only one who was able to board it
Before the cable broke and I was falling.
I wish I could have fallen forever,
Rather than floating away into the night,
Never to be heard,
Never to be seen,
Never to be saved.