Solo Dance After He Abruptly Left

The beat breaks and my teeth break.

Song blares and I’m heading face first to a heat wave.

I’m a no-go zone with the no-show prowling,

somewhere around town for cheap kicks.

Others get down to the sound, it’s

torture. Speaking of, another round but for me, thanks.

The beat burns and my teeth grate.

Ninety-eight pound weakling but

see her broad strokes and I think

ninety-eight percent beefcake.

Is the reach around just a lie that I tell

to put off something that I know I can’t take?

The Gestapo come around,

pink blood is on the door.

Do I think they would pass me over?

The beat swells and my eyes well.

And an alcohol smell, turn back, oh hell,

what’s a vodka to clear up heartache?

Lips touch liquor but they won’t touch mine,

can’t deal with the pain he’s downing.

Dad’s right, I’m the woman like he thinks.

Wishing temperance never stopped,

as the beat’s finally dropped, I’m alone

on the floor thank Jesus.

DJ’s talking now, but I can’t hear the sound,

wishing to just stop breathing.

The next song starts,

and the rate of my heart

skyrockets, raise the roof of my torment

Friends call on me to dance,

a celebration they think is

guaranteed. But I think I'm drowning.

Bio: Ricky Birchfield is a sophomore at Austin Peay State University majoring in Communications with a Journalism concentration and a minor in creative writing. In his off time he enjoys cooking, writing, and tabletop roleplaying games.