Hangover

I used to be sober. But then, you hung me over.
I had stepped onto the stage in a different era, it seemed. Fearful, frightful, an array of feelings bashing against the walls of my heart. The sickening, empowering music rang through the hall, and the crowd engulfed me in its wet, violently thrashing womb. I was surrounded by darkness and forgot that I was supposed to keep on holding your hand. We did enter the scene together, did we not? Yet the growing roar of the monster I found myself inside of deafened me. I know you cried my name; I suppose you felt just the same when you realized I'd forgotten our game.
You must give me your praise, though. I did succeed in remembering your face, and in that moment of epiphany, claws sprung from my fingers and I heroically slashed open the bars of my fleshy cage, jumping freely onto the blood-spattered floor. A distant riff reverberated in my eardrums.
My friend, I then searched endlessly for you and the warmth of your hand, tasting a hundred types of bland till I saw your face. I gave you a small embrace, and felt love exploding in my chest; that hung me above all the rest.
I let the sweating, swearing hoardes bang their heads to tuneless music, as we - the two companions of dignity - strode into the night, throwing our heads back with laughter and remembering that awful sight. Behind us, the walls began to fall - the monster had captured it all. Yet we ran to freedom, on a wise gust of wind, poised gracefully, dividing good and evil.
There came an awful time for you to depart, so we said goodbye and waved with heavy hearts.
In the morning, my head ached with the night's sounds. I woke up smelling of rainbow rum and feeling sweet smoke and crisp ash on my tongue, and remembered my previous michievousness. I used to be sober, refraining from the sweet pleasures of life. You, with your sweet, stinging dew made me once more hung over the world, in a state of grace. I thank you for honouring me with your companionship; I would not have spent that awful night with another.
And thank you for making me see that there's really no point in sobriety.