Standing sloppy
in an attempted single file line
the brisk air tears at our skin.
My eager adrenaline dances within.
The soundcheck can be heard
blasting through the brick
while our shoes shuffle forward.
I break through the front–
a quick frisk.
The damp haze swirls around the mob’s soaked flesh
begging us to keep the energy alive!
The slamming of chipped sticks, the strumming of violently vibrating strings,
and Rou’s guttural screams tangle, much like the cords strewn across the stage,
to create
an audible oasis.
The raw rhythm rings on
while the entire room lets go
and I’m in the heartbeat of this experience
as we’re all causing cardiac arrest.
ShootYourDarlings 