Trance, and a dash of House

I had forgotten the taste of solitude

the kind that came in glass bottles

where the feeling was intoxicating –

with not a care in the world.


Why stay when you squirm?

But why leave when you cry?

you are lost, you are an enigma

maybe we can raise a toast.


Clinking glasses signal the arrival

of suits, of chatter, of a multitude.

of a crowd drawn in silhouettes

acknowledged, but unrecognizable.


The liquid sparkle spills over

and you don’t take notice

the way you do with the changing lights

that blind you,  impairing you.


they always tell you that it’s inevitable

but retort, and raise your goblet

“The drink is fine,

and so is all of this.”


cr: tumblr

cr: tumblr



A/N: Poetry inspired by listening to this remix, and a few others:



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