Dancing with Open Minds and Closed Hearts

And so we all disappear into the distance,
Disappear into a puff of smoke from a dream of long ago that floats at the outside of our memories,
Into a place where we're unsure and vulnerable behind our strength
And flashing lights and the beat of the bass in which we all seem to lose ourselves,
Our consciousness, our morals of wisdom and propriety
Into which we become a mass of flesh and sweat,
Where we lose our identities and are just praying that we can forget what we've been taught and blaze into new territory that's only new to us
Through which we'll make all the same mistakes, but learn more than any teacher can teach,
Where we'll find ourselves amongst the thickening crowd,
Crying in a corner because in the end we're all alone,
But if for just one instant we can be a part of the greater humanity it will mean more than any dream we've accomplished because dreams only last through the night anyway,
But this moment will last through the dying ancestry of hopeless moments so that we can be for once, more than just ourselves,
More than just a hopeful entity being let down from the pedestal on which we felt we sat,
When really we're all in the same place,
Breaking down our thoughts and over processing the ugly words we've found
And forgetting to dwell on the beautiful phrases that we've been fortunate enough to have had grace our ears,
Because we wallow in the misery of things,
Instead of just raising our faces to the sky and basking up the glory of life in a dark, crowded room where hands feel flesh and grasp to that just to feel anything but alone,
Anything but opaque in the smoky haze of sentience and meaningless contacts we'll forget by the next day
But could have lasted a life time if we'd cared for more than two seconds about the human being who was standing in front of us
With your heart on his sleeve, begging us to pick him out of the crowd,
Because we'd begged him to pick us,
Intoxicated us to the sympathy we all seem to share,
To drown ourselves in cheap narcotic smelling cologne of want and sick nervousness
And the pains of the past we've come to forget about
Expect in the darkest times when we're all alone and afraid that maybe, just maybe for once,
The sun won't come up in the morning to tell us its okay to open our eyes,
That we're still alive even after what we've put ourselves through in the silent darkness
That oppresses our unsightly mannerisms of inconsequential proportions,

Because who's to say we even have our faces pointed in the right direction?

[Yes, I'm aware this is extremely long. It wasn't originally intended to be a poem, but kind of turned into one. Please bear with it. It's the first thing I've written in a really long time!]