Its midnight again
You count
It's the twelfth midnight you've spent like this
Because you cant seem to remember what the back of your eyelids look like at this time
But you remember too well how it feels for them to be soaked
You remember time before you started counting
When your midnights were spent intertwined in the sheets
Sharing midnight with your lover
But now its the twelfth midnight you've spent under cold sheets
In a cold room
With cold thoughts of the chance of a thirteenth midnight
a.m.