Night of the clubbing dead

Dream of viciousness and feeling lost.

Dream of bending over edges in high places and short skirts.

Dream of dark skies hiding neon colours in bricked rectangles.

Dream of bony fingers just clinging to their hinges, finding their way towards your mouth. Sucking them is accompanied by the very real fear that they might come off and you’ll be holding them between your lips.

Dream of violent altercation over who pissed on the floor, queue staying stubbornly intact all the while, through angry eyebrows and raised voices, a slammed door and a tut.

Dream of being summoned out with an arm in the air, giving a hateful glare but still having to traipse home with aching nubs for feet and never actually getting there.

Advertisements

One thought on “Night of the clubbing dead

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s