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.”
A/N: Poetry inspired by listening to this remix, and a few others: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IlSdiX_d__8