'Dancing' by Ravyn LaRue

I used to say, "I don't dance."
Which, of course wasn't true
But I was afraid of what people would think if they knew I did.
Now I say, "I dance, but I'm not good at it."
Though that's untrue also.
I'm good in my own eyes, and that is what matters.
Last night my heart was hurting.
And I tried something new.
I danced around my room to something up-tempo.
Just like my fictional aunt of the chosen family I so adore and so miss.
I just want to be back there to revel in it, and dance with my beloveds.
But I have no beloveds here.
So I dance on my own
In my dorm
While the roommates are away partying
I danced to the same five minute song over and over and over again.
Until the roommate came back and I apologized out of old habit for gyrating with my naked legs.
She scoffed, as she is one to do, and I wrapped my sweaty self into my sea-foam blankets.
I didn't sleep-
I did too good of a job at bringing myself back to the energized state I have a hard time getting to now a days.
I thought of how I used to dance every day
I thought of how I used to be afraid of high heels but managed to learn complex choreography to do in them
I thought back to all I've done and seen and been, and it makes me realize how triumphant I am underneath all these tears-
Just like the song I listen and dance to.
I must not revert to apologies just because the world around me wants to bring me back to that.
Think of Hero and all her wise words.
She knew better than I how mean it was here, but I figured I was ready for it.
But though I may appear cold and callused
I'm soft and permeable, and I long to be that way.
I've thrived that way, when I can brush off the bitterness that likes to harden over my pretty soft gore
But I dance only alone
No one can watch, or at least I pretend the voyeuristic skyscraper's eyes are closed, though they aren't.
I think and pretend I'm back home with Cisne teaching me choreography that's far above me.
I tell him-
We can coexist in our own way in the same space, and that's what makes it beautiful, love.
I try to be the prodigal daughter, though as time goes by, I realize that won't be.
Since I'm not into lying; I'm not good at it either
"Have you been crying?"
I don't say no, I just turn my eyes away.
But I'd rather have my heart hurt as strong as it does than go without feeling.
I'm all over catharsis, dear-
And that is why, last night, I danced.