"Strobe Lights"

"Strobe Lights" 

Fighting my menace like kids at the dentist but now all my sentences run on...

This feeling often unexplained
but fully expected.
Heard you speak of the neglected
like either of us
was ever
truly
good to ourselves.
Lost you in the haze.
In this maze.
Chased the daze
because clarity is hilarity.
You call it catharsis.
There aren't this many people
in one place
like ever.
Should we go?
Would I leave?
Never.
You appear sick of it,
I suppose.
Who knows
once we break skin and take in and begin between the murmur and the slur and the babble and the ramble and the run on... 

... come on.
We're too far up there
where we chose to fare
to care about
and rant about
and yell
and shout
the doubts I've come to see
as absolutely foreign to me
once a dose kicks in.
Colors look gross mixed in
the contents of the glass
but pass for acceptable
when passing through receptacles
we can view from a distance.
Milligrams between instance
and the next instant
finds us surrounded with the room spinning.
"The beginning of this again..."
you spit through frowns amid my grin
as if being here was a sin
and there's a penance for admission.

This was our tradition.
Conditions I can't see...
Felt like you should feel me.
Admittedly,
I fall in love
with you
all over again
every time our blood streams
from exposed veins.
Tainted bloodstreams.
I'd hear screams
if not for volume
and the space between.
I can only glean vibration and flash.
Swept up is trash.
Hapless is cash
I'd sooner spend on glass
that would be broken thereafter.
I swear I hear laughter
but am befuddled
by the tears in your eyes.
There's some passion in our rhythm
but yours is........violent.
Sporadic.
Less dance floor than addict.
So much made of the habits
one stands to be reminded of...

Not the glove
but closely fit
for the benefit of smiles
from the subconscious stairs I climb
in my submersion sublime;
gathered from down deep
to creep higher.
I've peeled fliers
and made time
and worn tires.
I don't own ties... 

..... living as plain as my clothing but plain is a scolding reminder that old things will wither and fade so I saved up for shades just to enhance my look like the way I appear matters. Not to them but to you because honest and true, I love looking at you but if caught in a stare, I'd notice you there... 

.....watching me fighting my menace like kids at the dentist as sentences ramble and run on as I dance through despair.....but you're hurting there........
...................asking yourself if I even care
at all. 

The colors.
A beautiful distraction
until they aren't. 

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz