I'll be the girl with the tight, black dress;
the girl in the scarlet lipstick and smudged eyeliner,
the girl with fluttery lashes, standing at the corner.
I'll be at the back of the crowd, as couples dance
and sweet nothings are whispered from the speakers.
I'll stand in solitude, accompanied by misery
and loving every minute of it, as lights flicker;
a kaleidoscope of galaxies from effects of lighting.
I'll be the girl without a care for a partner,
hiding behind a mask of shadows.
I'll be the one who leaves early for another party,
dance with strangers in the eve of night;
a butterfly from flower to flower, as you go to bed
with hunger.
I'll be the first to see the dawn and the last to wake
from slumber, not quite sober.
I'll be the girl with the sour aftertaste in her mouth,
the one with the sly smile and yet another crime.