My Glass Heart

 I sit alone in the corner of the Smokey, neon-illuminated nightclub. The whiskey burns its way down into my stomach, and then she catches my eye again. Every Saturday I come here and see the wicked girl who smashes my glass heart. She is evil for what she does to me, She is cruel because of the one sided love I have for her, She is also sinful for not even knowing I’m alive. But tonight is different; tonight I will go to her and tell her how I feel. I get up and attempt to cross the moving labyrinth of dancers that infest the floor. This is the only obstacle that stands between myself and the cigarette machine she smokes next to. Cheesy eighties tunes deafen me. I fight my way passed the intoxicated cheap looking girls, who try and dance with me. I try to evade the drunken, tattooed covered man, who for some reason wants to beat me up. At last I get to my dyed blonde goddess. She drops her cigarette and steps on it with her black high-heeled boot. I look deep into her ocean eyes; she smiles and shatters the rest of my heart. I walk over like a knight who’s slayed the dragon and is ready to claim the damsel as a prize. Her arms go around me so I rest mine on her perfect waist. I close my eyes, my lips go toward the made up face of my fantasy lover. When I open my eyes my daydream fades. It’s just me on my own drinking my burning whiskey. I see her the other side of the dance floor. I think to myself next week I will tell he how I feel.