anxiety ridden
basement punk concerts
and its like im existing
only there
feeling passionate and
less alone
more complete
i guess music is a bandage
which makes my migranes worse
but its well worth the rush
to remind me that i still breathe
and i walk the streets
with run down keys poking through
my tiny fist
because the threat of assult and danger
at night
is more real
all alone
on my way home
still dazzled and in love
with raw pounding drum beats
with vicious guitar chords
with screaming vocals
i just walk the street
in awe
stars in my eyes
counter-culture burning fire in my heart
humming melodies
reminding me that
im
actually
alive

(10/10/09)

Lane Morein

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/thoughts-around-midnight/