The world doesn't just fade out,
it just switches into the black,
until the colours and shapes start to take on forms and they vaguely make sense,
it's a place i've been before,
twice,
I think,
the platform at Newark station,
but this time it's empty,
the image swims in my head,
solidifying,
I begin to wonder,
what happens next?
It's easy to see why my subconscious has brought me here,
there are some vivid memories,
key moments and occurances,
this is the place that was the starting point,
or turning point,
for thoses journeys,
it's a bleak place really,
it seems saturated,
lacking in life,
the platform is grey the sky is grey,
even the bright red on the vending machine looks washed out,
neglected,
here in this sleep world the lines are sharper,
the details more obsure,
and the shadows grow darker,
I don't question the abscense of people,
there's no reason why I should,
this situation isn't real,
but it is silent,
the tannoy is dead,
the lights are all dark and everytime I revisit this place I seem to forget,
that I always picture a scene without people,
there must be a reason,
but whatever it is,
it's buried in a cupboard in my mind,
still waiting for me to find it.

