Midnight Oil

at twelve in the night 
I was at work 
no time to rest 
no time to think
the sound of the clock
the sound of my breath 
there is always something 
disturbing the silence 

right beside my chair 
there was an empty one 
there was no one there
but I felt a stare 
I tried not to look 
but how could I not 
be aware 
of that bloody chair 

I went back to my book 
my pen to my paper 
I started to write 
but not like before 
it wasn’t 
a moonless night
there wasn’t 
a knock on my door 
I left the pen 
closed my book 
I shut my eyes 
and pushed away
that fucking chair.