watching the strobe lights incessantly flicker,
my mind is quite the daring chief. she's a ball of fire,
recklessness and chatty exhilaration. "go." she reprimands me, under
an iridescent ceiling of balloons, happily effervescing
with bubbling enthusiasm.
pushing morsel upon morsel down my throat,
swallowing potential empty isolation, "no." i firmly exclaim as
i'd rather drink myself into oblivion than to oblige.
what's the use of feeling alone in a triangle?
what's the use when everyone you approach would rather go to someone else?
i raise my bottle high to the ceiling and chug,
what a bother.
( i. senseless, party thoughts )
