From above a parking lot, where the fire escape is about to bust from the ice (rust not likin it at all), you see nothing's changed much. Like when you wake up in the mornings and rest your hands on your stomach and feel yourself breathing and "what's the fucking point?" early thoughts.
Like when you know he's not done and is still trying and you ignore it eventhough you're ready to fuck just about anyone. And empty.
You try to open the door and almost fall down the stairs. If your neck broke before you felt anything, it'd be fine. And then you'd see yourself in a living room, just dancing in the dark, without a we---but by yourself. Except people would be trying to look in the windows, and every now and then they would think they saw something moving. A static spark between your socks feet and the yellow rug. But you wouldn't turn on the lights and you wouldn't open the window--you'd just keep dancing.