Called to the Dance Floor

Called to the dance floor

Broken at the party

I can’t remember the last time I wanted to dance more

To sing more

To eat more

To smile more

To fake it more

Sharp, throbbing, dull aches strap me to my seat

A submissive to Table 9

Watching My Love jump high and dip low

You, My Love, are a dream

A dream that slips through my achy fingers

I’ll never jump that high again, and if I do, I’ll feel the ripple and crumble for days after

I try to stand

Weakness in my leg pulls me back into the chair

I play it off with a shimmy and a swirl

I wait a few more minutes

Stand again

Stabbing pain through my core

Wills me back to Table 9

It’s magnetic

They stare, the strangers, your people

Questioning what could possibly be my problem

What could possibly be bothering me

Is she lazy

Antisocial

Dramatic

They don’t know about the broken pieces scattered 

through the decades

But you do

I look away from their gazes and find you again

Hair twirling on the dance floor

Smiling at those same questioning faces

Freely moving hips

Rolling shoulders

Swaying arms

Being able

You call me to the dance floor

And I break your heart with rejections

You slump and sink back under the lights

I owe you a dance

I owe myself a chance to try

I force pain

I accept pain

I live pain

To dance

With you

My love

My disease

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