When the night turns black and cats roam the streets, I will hide in the shadows, unsedated. Their laughter gets louder hour by hour; liquid gold fuels their fire. But I will watch from dark corners, unsedated. Linked arm in arm they stagger down neon lit streets tripping on invisable obstacles. My feet shuffle quietly behind them, watching with darkened eyes, unsedated.
They’re loudness brings night preditors to the floor; they don’t notice, but I do. Camouflaged as white knights on dark horses; the knights fuel them more and more. It’s become too much; time to go because I’m unsedated.
An abstract tale of a sober night out with the girls.