Malice ripples
lying low, under
penetrating nightlife strobe.

Repercussions?
None to show.

Limp bodies
'getting loose'
In truth,
injected with poison;
a slow-acting noose.

Repulsive actions of the
vile & depraved
****
endorsed at raves.

Vibrational  hues eclipse
         my exterior ,
reverberating upon
                           my senses.

Parallel bars synchronize
around me, am I  a prisoner
as the resonation keeps
            me within this spot.

I can feel within a perfect
           storm of repetition.
Like chambers bouncing off
each other, trying to find a
                             synchronization.

I look at myself,
                      breaches spring forth,
this shell is to weak to keep me in.
        Shattering forth, I'm pure volume.

The bars start to spike, As I break free.
         We become harmonized,
what tried to bind is now part of my reality.

She gets high
to forget
feeling low.
In that instance the hair on her legs and her blood pressure spike, saluting the broken record chips rhythmically spinning above her dimmed wits.
Up, down,
with nothing to break down.
Deeply depressed,
she's high but low.