History Class Before Bell

The desks sit lifeless and pristine

across brown tweed carpet.

There's a scent not unlike cologne,

a strong, heavy hint of masculinity,

in the air.

Everything is so empty-clean.

I am the only living thing here,

the only one to feel the room tingle.

Let me take the class alone,

the only student.

Let the voice of once-was touch me

untainted by snickers and sighs.

I want to be the only one

to soak up the words, the figures,

the life of our past.