Tiredness Steals My Fun

I shiver from the cold,
the dress too short
skin on show
bare back with moles.
The shoes tight
aching sole
skin imprinted and marked.
Smoke and ash choke me,
the trampled nicotine.
The manic guy with wide eyes
and a white t-shirt,
burns his finger and jumps.
I am awkward, keeping quiet
and defensive arms crossed.
Longing for a drink
but terrified of the throbbing tomorrow.
The thumping beat,
tension in my head.
I want to leave and close sleepy eyes
that long to rest on purple pillows.
The smudged faces and shiny noses,
with sloshing glasses are smashed.
We dance on grimy floor, and avoid the
liquid with broken glass.
Tiredness steals my fun, and I wish
I could smile like you.


One thought on “Tiredness Steals My Fun

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