Once More, To The Front

What really happens in a club.....please review!!

Once More I Stand,
My little cup, near done.
"Another?"
Why Not, I will not suffer humiliation.

Drop beats not bombs, I wish and cry,
The lonely beating become rhythmic.
"We'll See"
Say I.

The suicide that follows,
the dysmorphia that is accumulated.
Not like the Others.
I pray.