Switch the night

Isn’t this what you wanted? Weren’t you on the path to grab the prize, the cup, the fucking Holy Grail of contentment?

To slowly swim through hazy mornings and bloom in the bright nights where freedom embraces selective memory.

Imbalance only lightened your step  as you covered your wavering with invisible music.

Oh but to get that rush back, when your hair stuck to the brick wall as everything disapeared but the light reflecting on your belt buckle, the light under which you got hooked to the fire lit by his fingers.

As the haze solidifies, as the nights darken, the music you realize was your own heart beating to a symphony of panic.

The path, as always, is there only to support your steps, never to guide them.

As you thread on I want you to remember. You can still dance, you can still catch fire.

I want to remember.