my heart beats fast & my hands shake
i should have stayed at home today
i try to escape my own mind
tug at my clothes & count the time
i can't sit still but i can't move
my mascara runs more than i do

the familiar old knot,
the familiar old sweep,
nostalgia and nerves
always cuts so deep

The scene advanced,
The song started,
And lapsed
Into my psyche
Chords hitting nerves
I'd thought were wasted
And lost
Because I'd left them
Wandering through a maze
Of things
That had messed with them too much
But the song
Was subtle enough
To teach them to feel again
In the way they're supposed to.

Anticipating discomfort
as high heels climb stairs
with light steps to avoid clicks.
Attempt to dodge the cigarette brigade
with quick nods and hellos.
Finally on their floor with labored breathing.
They are so loud- heard down the hall.
Behind the door there are friends
waiting for the next best topic.
Greeting friends,
drunk and drinking more.
Open the door to
loud friends,
laughing over each others voices.
The only thing worse than the clamor
is the spilt stout that nobody noticed.
But hugs and wise cracks are still in order.
Holding hands with a cup of speaking serum,
with eyes that already seek a clock.
It's too early, we've only just got here.
Obligation to talk.
Spy the lascivious in peripherals-
in the corners of the room.
What languid lovers narcotics make.
High stakes with low gains,
leaves mouths with ****** tastes.
Words exchanged in witty waste.
Spy the conversations that selective hearing
couldn't rid
about you- about him, about them
and the trouble we're in.
Avoid eye-contact, but answer to
"What's going on with you? New job?"
with a smile and a nod and an "It's cool."
Burning desire for an air
without so many ****** breaths.
Someone is hurling in the bathroom-
and friends are singing desperation.
Tap toes and fidget,
avoid more conversation.
Everyone is so involved, now.
Gravitating around the life
of the party.
The foyer's empty.
A platinum opportunity.
Fake a bathroom break.
Apartments don't have back-doors,
and comings a regret.
Slip past the lazy leg bridges.
No one's looking yet.
In between coffee tables and couches.
No one's looking, yet.
but some are rising for the night trips
of cancer indulgence.
Jet for the door and ever so
silently
close it when you're beyond
for relief.
The air is already colder-
slip off the heels and run barefoot
in to the rest of the night,
safe and alone with yourself
and your secrets.
Ignore the question texts.
Houdini?
Disappearing acts.
No, you're Candy.
you don't let them in your heart.
Ignore the question texts,
don't explain yourself next time either.