i danced with my illusion, knowing

it was an illusion, no deception right?

i played with good emotions,

since what’s there without it?

i ran to the nearest restroom when the

sweat, air and noise eventually got to me,

found my old nemesis waiting inside

the cubicle with a cudgel.

i played it cool, feigned my usual bluff

and brought out my faithful weapon of choice

brought a cold calculating look

while whistling merrily.

it doesn’t always work of course, poker face

goes only this far,

but all humans have limits too –

tension rose, he did not take the bait,

then it was all menace, ferocity, a fight, collateral damage.

later on that night, i danced some more,

to bring my mind off

that awful encounter and found a partner

whose rhythm matched mine,

foxtrot, tango, waltz, samba, rumba, swing, cha cha

till we both fell down laughing helplessly.

i thought my partner oddly familiar,

tucked away that thought as just nostalgia, absent mindedness

then i heard the chorus of angels, at least i thought they

were angels, sure sounded heavenly!

i felt such bliss,

my illusion agreed with me, matched my energy,

was everything what thought perfection to be.

i swayed, i toppled, i jumped, i heaved, i rolled on the ground,

everything was just hilarious, intoxicating, liberating

and yet my chest felt tight, my breath was shallow, my blood thinned,

must be the highs i told myself

so i threw away caution and gave many labels, rationales

as to why.

weaker, my mind scrambled to remember, found i could not,

my muscles tried to remember, found it could not,

the midnight strike came about,

my illusions, my good emotions fell apart

my nemesis breathed close to my ears,

you got way too close.

by this time, i could no longer fight back,

no more need for posing, poker game is gone,

the midnight strike –

when hearts manifested.