The color of the lights wash
Over me, the music sounding trippy,
And the girl that invited me over
Is dancing in ways that my mind
Can't seem to comprehend.
The girl with a blinding outlook,
The only way I can describe her,
Is such a free spirit of a person.
Kinda obvious with the peace signs,
The dreads, and the tie dye Grateful Dead
Tattoo on her exposed left thigh.
Her eyes are half closed,
Partly from being lost to the music,
Partly from being stoned out of
Of her fried little mind.
And yet she never misses a beat
In her dancing.
Her skin so soft, so pale, so...smooth.
Even when she bends this way
Or contorts the other way,
It stays in such a perfect way.
Like water in a still pond.
Who was she?
How did I know her?
How did I get here?
I don't remember any of this.
I don't even...oh, my mouth is dry.
I stand up carefully and signal
To the dancing spirit that
I am going to grab a drink.
I grab a bottle of water from her
Fridge and find my way outside.
Fresh air and crisp water awaken my
Senses and memories.
No idea why that room and the girl's
Swaying held such a hold over me.
But I remember everything and why
I promised her that I would come over.
Taking one last sip of the water
Before taking a deep breath,
I walk back into the hippie's house
And am welcomed back with more weird
I take a peek into the room and she's still
Swaying as if there was an audience
Lost in her own little world.
Seems we all have our vices.
I walk back over to her and pull out
A small dropper with a kind of
Cloudy liquid in it.
I hold it out to her and before I can
Manage to shout out a word
To her, she grabs it and brings it to
Looking straight up, she squeezes a
Few drops of the liquid into
It takes her a few seconds to notice
The pain but once she notices,
She hits the floor.
She screams as she looks up at me
But the music drowns her out.
I grab the dropper from the floor and
Drop a few more drops onto her face,
Watching as the liquid begins to
Eat at her cheek.
She tries to crawl away while desperately
Trying to wipe her face clean
Of the liquid but failing horribly.
I watch her for a few seconds,
Admiring it all happen as if in disbelief.
And yet, it is happening before me.
She backs up into a corner of the room,
Knocking over a small table,
As I kneel before her and tell loud
Enough for her to hear,
"How about we go on a little trip?"
With dawn showing its ugliness,
I carefully place the plastic barrel
Into the back of a flatbed truck
That I managed to hotwire before finding
My way over here.
With junk pressed up against the barrel
So that it doesn't move too much,
I also the side of the truck and climb
Into it, ready to take a nice and quiet trip.