A Singer's Affair
Late at night I used to sit in front of that smoky bar, feel the weight of the microphone, lean into the crook of my guitar. A rush of adrenalin coursed within. My heart would beat fast, and I let the lyrics mingle with the atmosphere.
Everyone stopped to stare. They seemed to really listen, to feel every emotion that rushed from me. It was the height of love. A love affair between strangers, music and performing. The sensation emphasized the human connection.
But over time the tobacco cut into my lungs. The alcohol made me forget every word I'd practiced. Worst of all, when I needed someone after the show, no one was there. They didn't love me. They loved my voice.
I would've died in need. Died making myself crazy trying to keep them near. I chose life instead and left it all behind. That doesn't mean that I don't miss it. I still love everyone, even if they never really loved me.
23 April 2015