Twelve Thirty One O One

At 2 a.m. on New Years Eve I waited alone. A fickle light flickered in the dark of the train station, unsure whether to burn with the other lights, or give into the potent, pressing dark. I found such solace in that light that night. I didn't know what I wanted either. But as my breath came to life in the night air, I thought of years before, in that same train-station when no amount of cold could make me shiver, and a song was born.