Nodus Tollens

Pity, it's a Party

A crowded room, the floor's a mess, synths blasting, I'm in a party by myself.
I drown in the attention I receive from half the people who've bumped into me.
Funny how they know I don't bask in their glory anymore.
It's a pity they say, but they have a new one to prey upon.
An interesting specimen to make a circus out of while I'm whisked away in a corner.
But a party is not a party when there is only one person talking in a room full of people you can't even recognize.
The drinks downed slowly make a fool out of yourself.
Trying to have fun but you're just dislodging and disengaging from the conversations they make.
You question, who are these people and why are you here?
Wandering eyes tell the truth: Is this some sort of trick or a bad dream?
The stifling loudness of the music makes you think, clearly it seems.
Familiar faces that you can't even imagine you'd see.
Hungry for a little bit of flattery to make you crumble in tears.
The one etched on your face when you look into the mirror.
Surprising that you took longer to realize the scene playing out before you.
As you walk on by, you see from your left to your right;
Different versions of yourself all dance in different tunes of the night.
As the clock ticks, it's half past midnight and you're still there.
They talk without a trace of thought lingering over them as if one's own life is any better.
Is there an unmooring sound that makes your heart sing with glee?
Or is there something else in your mind that makes you want to go up, scream and flee?
The question floating around in your mind makes your head explode.
Have they filled your mind with their own regrets and desires?
Well you're still in the party, sitting somewhere taking time and taking up space.
They know how to get you to break like a wind up doll losing its key.
Pouring drinks of self-inflicted poisoned words into your unsuspecting body.
Pity that you're in a party, a big one — surrounded by a number of idiots with faces painted on big red masks.
Those who know your pain better than anyone else ever will and will always use it against you.
But would there be a difference if you fight them back?
You cannot help but wonder if things would change for you.
A brawl would ensue but even if it ends your mind will not allow you to escape.
The party will last forever, they will never stop not now or ever.
The drinks will keep pouring, the songs will keep playing and the people will keep coming back to clean up the mess each night just to make another one.
Oh what a shame. Truly.

Pity, it's a party you cannot get rid of no matter how hard you put up a fight.
.
.
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a/n: brain rot ik