Is this how we're all meant to be?
Gyrating under party strobe lights and club beats, each dancer swaying in tangent with another's body. Slick with sweat, the bass in the background orchestrating the pounding in each of our chests. With hands thrown in the air, and eyes tightly shut, feet shifting rhythmically from side to side, lights flickering so bright, so insistent, that they pierce through our eyelids and into our souls.
You tell me that you're sad. When I see you dance, I don't see you happy. I see you sad, dancing with abandonment, dancing like you're drowning, dancing in the dark because then they wouldn't be able to figure you out. Because then they wouldn't be able to see your vulnerability.
Is this how we're all meant to be?
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