Ballroom ; on the dance floor
With plans fouled up and walls betrothed to bloody knuckles, he marinated. Skinned knee blowjobs, empty fortune cookies, and a sad state of things led him to exploding the only way he knew how, inwards. None of that was true, everything was true. He counted his lies on fingers long broken, with nails painted black by violent dust. The product of his environment despite every attempt at discovering other dimensions, the only choice now was pursuit. Beautiful, flagrant(and preferably fragrant), volcanic-destructive pursuit. He was the maypole of Kilimanjaro, well-ribboned destruction cruising to a lovesong(one he called up on the radio and dedicated to himself every night). Everybody knows that theres only so much responsibility and caring one could expel, it was limited like dopamine.
He was drunk. Caught in a crimson and clover dream of brain salt and drug powder, wakeboarding on enough gin to make Hemingway tap out for the night. Nobody could keep up with him, and that was really the way that he liked it. No ghosts were going to follow him down the graveyard, not tonight. Tonight was his, for the first time in his promising life, he could say that. No more chasing the sky, no more cinders, no more regrets. Tonight he just needed people. Girls in nurse getups and boys in denial. Girls with pompoms like ions, cheerleaders for science. Boys with the same brand of streaming mascara as runners up on prom night. He wanted music and madness, euphoria by the ounce(half price special at the bazaar -- this nightonly). And tonight he was going to have it.
Milkthistle skin, glitterdusted shoulders, and neon paint freckles. Hot pink and blinding yellow and seizure inducing blue, the aftermath of a rave was splashed and fingerprint painted over his bare chest(and down where wandering artists dragged lines past a bubblegum belt). He was suicide skinny with avian bones and pirate appetites(conquer, consume, rinse, repeat). The band played just for him, and everybody else seemed to dance with him as he made a carousel spin with arms in the air and a whooping, intoxicated laugh.