booktowrite

Its 3 oclock in the morning and at this time I am forever awake. It is 3 o'clock in the morning so I check the weather and I turn on the television and I turn it off again because it's too bright. I talk to the cats... I pay attention to the light falling upon the curtains and I listen to the water warming in the immersion heater and wonder why you never told us what was due to happen. And then there's you; your texts come through but they say nothing. A waste of time. You don't want to be mine or even take the time to communicate properly, so we may as well sever this. It's 3 o'clock in the morning and its just the cats and I, the way it always is. The cats don't lie to me and I don't have to try to make them like me. The ghosts of things said haunt me at this hour of the witch and I'm unable to understand what was said but more importantly I'm unable to understand what was not said.