I will miss the hazy, neon-lit nights,
Glorified toxins, feelings of
Connection, identification,
Peeking over the walls
That our childish souls have been made to build,
Feeling that, for a moment,
It is okay to come out and play,
That maybe everything isn't so serious.
Celebration is our only concern,
Elation our only endeavor,
The future is an abstraction,
The past nothing more than a storybook,
We have beaten death
And are dancing on its ironic grave,
We are alive, we are life,
Invincible and enlightened,
Full of love and possibility,
At least until tomorrow morning.