Under the city lights, we danced.
(twirl.swirl.dip.shimmy.repeat.)
The post-bar smell of stale alcohol perfumed.
The post-bar feeling of slight intoxication.
Oh, to be/feel intoxicating as well as intoxicated.
Ridiculed by the headlights of the passing cars,
not a care but for keeping rhythm amidst stupor.
Your 6 and my 3/4, we must have been a sight,
a sight for the sorest of eyes,
for my sore eyes.
SilverSeas&VictimoftheCrime.
'Twas a victimless crime,
embracing the feeling of being alive,
and put me in shackles if it was, after all,
for I will not forfeit easily this time.
Revival, renaissance, and renewal.
I was reborn under those streetlights,
andyouhavenoideawhatyouhavedoneforme.
The freshening of my tired spirit overpowered my tired limbs,
and I danced. I danced. I danced. I. Danced.
I did not want it to end, dear friend,
but basic physiological needs won in the end.
To answer your inquiry, yes, I say.
It was enough. It was the perfect amount.
As we danced, I felt the glimmer return to my eye,
the sly sparkle that has evaded my iris for what seems like an eternity.
The flush of youth&exhiliration returned alongside it.

I am alive. Alive, am I.
Je suis vivant!
I will shine and sparkle, diamond-like.
The Diamond has made her glorious&triumphant return.
Welcome her with open arms.
She has missed you dearly.

"And if I don't make it, know that I loved you all along" - Our Lady Peace

Angels, all of you.
This, I believe in earnest.
When I set foot in the room, I see your smiles and kind eyes,
but am overwhelmed by the air from the beating of your wings.
The breeze is refreshing, something I have yet to experience,
and something I never thought would be experienced during my earthly time.
But, angels do walk amongst us, and I have recently encountered several.
Came into my life with the most perfect of timing, you have,
at my time of deepest despair, need, want, and desire.
I thirsted for something real, something pure, something beautiful,
and my prayers were answered in you.
Your kindness, acceptance, and warmth are serving as my salvation,
helping hands along this long, hard road out of this hell.
So open are your arms, while most hold themselves and themselves alone
with a vice-like grip.

This is my gratitude in the best way I can express it.
I live tight-mouthed and incapable of formulating the words,
unable to utter it,
but the words flow freely,
pouring from my fingertips like water from a broken dam,
pent up and wanting so badly to be made manifest.

I humbly thank you, and hope that this is merely the beginning.