The first drum beat hits and I smile.
Knowing that while this may only be the first opener, it will instill hope in the hearts of its listeners for a great show.
Our heads bob as we go, some in a steady rocking, others in full blown head pounding beat.
There is no retreat from a show like this.
The air growths thick with sweat and smoke. Where those in front choke when those in back try to get close.
The beat rocks against my ribcage. My heart starts to speed up.
The headliner finishes. We wait.
Our eyes are all focused on the stage. The headliner is coming.
They start with loud chords and bright lights. Our windpipes fill with air, mouths with lyrics.
We jump, shout and dance. Clap when prompted. And earn haunting headaches from the loud music and excited crowd surfers.
I grab the barricade, and when the fan favorite starts everyone goes wild, so I smile and jam myself onto the front line.
I find the girls around me aren't pleased with my presence, but I don't care. Instead I shove my fists in the air and rock my body to the beat.
I have one of the best spots in the house.
We've earned sore legs and clogged ears because it's standing room only. And it ends all to soon.
We leave the venue by the light of the moon. Arms full with merch and bank accounts freshly drained.
Looking forward to the next show.
YOU ARE READING
Collection of Poem Things
ПоэзияI've had these in my Google Drive forever, and I want to share them so here they are. These have been written over the course of my HS and college career, I turn to words when things are dark. They aren't great, but they help me process what's goin...
