Dancing Lights and Sinking Beds

Blue, red, green and yellow lights were dancing across the black wall. Back and forth, round and round. Against the wall, glasses clinking in sync to the sound of the music as the DJ mixed different tracks feeding thirsty ears with sound. I wanted to turn my volume up so loud that this world would hear my scream. I got tired of being your door mat, you kept leaving traces of dirty snow all over me. The closest I got to you was at the bottom of your feet ,when our feet accidentally played footsy under tables but it felt like you were kicking me in other  places where it hurts so my heart thumped harder, , I was wet,  but this kind of soaked is drowning, it’s not snow it’s tears flowing like a waterfall but backwards. Don’t mind me polluting my waters with alcohol I’m just trying to numb the feeling of being filled to the brim.

But I’m dancing too much.. I see droplets form on my skin and I wish they were from my eyes because the need to release has been knocking at my door for the past few weeks and ignoring doesn’t help. It just reminds me that there are demons to be faced that i never can escape. So even when I close my eyes and try to forget those visits I think more of them, take another sip from my pink straw as I walk to the bar. Sex on the beach maybe. After two shots I didn’t pay for and three songs later, feeling tired of the scene I make my way to sheets laced with familiar scents and open arms so I wrap myself in them. Basking in the feeling of cool sheets to dry the last traces of water from my burning skin after soaking in a hot tub of insecurities. What is it that we seek when we venture so far from ourselves to find ourselves?

I’m glad I can feel again. My feet start to hurt from all the dancing and my backbone starts to pop… laying naked in these sheets wishing I had someone to cater to me. but it is just me in this room. Me and all the questions I am yet to answer.. who am i? where am I going? Where is my faith? Do I love me? I always  smile at that question… sometimes .. maybe.. yes and no.. I guess we have different ways of answering that. But after a night of toxins and adrenalin, the last bit of self searching you’d do would only be physical. I’d lie to myself that I’m only straightening out the creases and easing some of the pain when my fingers are exploring oasis left undiscovered molding hills and tracing dark skin, finding curves, jewels and a bead that leaves my mouth open gasping for air while my feet are firmly planted and knees seem to shiver making the sheets look like a tent caught in a storm. Someone is getting wet tonight. it’s that one flick that brings you jolting to life.. back arched and eyes closed looking at fireworks that sound like a heart beating too hard too fast. Inhaling, hoping if I hold my breath the feeling will stay but it is gone twice as fast as I came.

When I finally sink back into bed, I sink back into loneliness and quite often guilt. Some part of me feels like it’s wrong but it feels so right … and incomplete. Only then do the ‘why’ questions start to taint the ceiling with stains.. in every corner and all that’s in within, a different question for every incomplete  answer. I wonder why I try.. I can hear the skeletons in the closet rattle as they laugh at my attempts but what scares me more is the monster under my bed. I’ve made a leaking roof out of it’s home what if it decided to drown me in my sleep… ‘what if…’ is never really a good way to start a question.. it only leads to more thinking and all I want to do is sleep.. my body is spent.. weak with slight satisfaction and fatigue but my mind plays a never ending game of chess with itself. 

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