melancholia

i have an award winning smile,
or so everyone tells me.
i look, i frown, i breathe, i stare,
i smile that smile again.

we're in a club, im not dressed right
i'm dancing the disjointed hip
all i can think of is being away from here
but they're looking so i smile them away.

my arms swing free at my waist
i slow move as i see on tv
i glance up over my shoulder, just like they do
and pitifully eye the throng that surround me

drunken and bug eyed, layered and plastered
men spike their hair with sweaty palms
girls glare and waft, angular movements of violence
hang their lank hair over their forearms

whatever i think, as i stare at the bricks
and create poetical lines in my head
such amazing poesy i can never remake
when im home and stumbling out type.

all i can think is of times gone by
nostalgia that swims to the beat
my body will rise and my head beats down
as my memory searches for thine

but you're not there, your mind,
that normally works so tune with mine
is asleep and distant, i can't lock on
i'm alone and packed into this room.

so i dance along men, disjointedly,
and never quite manage to hit the damn beat.
i think of you and our strange harmony,
and i miss the tunes our odd chimes would make.