So maybe I'm in a dark place.

15 minutes of paradise

In empty bars, shine on.
Pretentious ones put hands together
as the night pushes along.
And all my confidence is squeezed in 10 fingers
where my anxiety, excitement, and desperation lingers.
I have grown tired of a broken heart
so I leave mine up where the tubes are glowing,
the strings are roaring,
and notes are surely soaring.
It's a definitive high
followed by the proverbial low.
Reality is future,
future has become present,
and I am who I am once more.
A good man
still suffering reality's hollow-ness.