Sitting One Out

Silent disco is a misnomer

Even when you take the headset off

And the music in your ears disappears

The sounds do not

There are stomping feet

And people screaming out off key lyrics

Not just one song, but three

The greens shout “I’m Mr. Brightside!”

The blues are singing “Wagon Wheel”

And the reds are feeling “Drunk in Love”

For a moment you’re on the outside

Looking in

Or listening in

Painting yourself as a wallflower

As you linger there

Suspended for a few seconds

In the dissonance

Before you put your headset back on

And rejoin your circle of friends

But then fast forward a year

To bare feet

On a kitchen floor

To where there’s real silence

Now that the crying has stopped you hear it

You can feel it

Because when you sit out enough dances

People stop asking you

So you know after fifty Friday nights

No one will notice your absence

Then in that silence you yearn

Just to be a wallflower again

Present if not a participant

Because from the fringe

You know you can find your way back

But from this far away you’re lost

You’re a dancer

Who doesn’t dance anymore

Or maybe just not yet

You turn on a song

It’s not one you’d ever dance to

But it’s not one you’d fall asleep to

With tears on your cheeks

It’s a starting point

And you always have to start somewhere

Author’s Note: This poem is an entry for Gabriel Huizenga’s Lost-ish Challenge. Check out the details in the story linked below.