my personal opera

Look at them.

They disgust me.

Verbal war in a foreign land yet they believe its ok...maybe even normal,

battering at one another over coins...simplistic munity for 2 served up for an audience who cant see the stage..... just the blinding lights that hurt all of my senses one by one.

Im front row center.

I decide to embrace and even celebrate.

Look past the blinding lights to the void.

Go inside,....step in..... its loud - breathe in , sensorys open, embrace..

then it happens

pitch & growls ...the highs,   the lows turns to the most beautiful music ive ever heard.

rage becomes opera.

toxic becomes captavating.

Why do i have to be present in body,  when all i have to do is close my eyes and will this parking garage into my personal opera house?

Even the artists aren't aware they are performing for me,

For I have decided that this moment is more than toxic static,

its music.

I leave, knowing that ive just captured the ghost in a bottle, now i release it.

as the smoke disolves into the evening blue sky,

i wish it peace.