Unlike Wine

Unlike wine, you will not improve with age,
left out to breathe, your darkness gathers.
I remember the first day you took my hand,
swept me from my feet down that darkened alley land,
to a life that was just outside my reach.

You a pied piper, I followed without even a peep.

You never saw my mind; I was staring at my feet.
In the darkness, the only light that shined was knee deep.

Across the room, my eyes wide, glimmered for someone I thought would shine.
I see the dark that circles you, your life, your time,
your eyes, and you sad with curiosity, how you wish you had no mind.
A push and pull stronger than the tide.

You didn’t even know I wanted you
lying ten feet by, with my face tilted to the side,
I watched you kiss my friend,
from under a table I heard the laughter I could not enjoy,
I rolled over, touched my lips to another boy.
You were a light that shone so bright into a moment dark in my life,
starving, lonely left out to rust.
I was a bit player on your stage never a walk on, no trust.

Your words drive me as crazy as the night I sat in back.
We drove up the canyon with those other two sad sacks.
Confused by what you were trying to do,
I saw you seduce the woman in the front seat
then hang out and be cool in the back. You failed at both.
Madness behind the wheel, in my mind, my thighs, my tries.
I never got out and walked; only let you drive.

I read your words upon the pages of your books,
clearly you say it, walk away while you can,
do not love this little boy pretending to be a man.
Poor communication, is more than a phrase,
it is the sign held up on the corner hoping to be paid.

First in queue of the faults that I have seen,
you sitting behind depravity hoping to be mean.
You the sensitive one, the poet the naïve,
all a mask for insecurity, a knack for preening
for the love and compassion you so desperately seek,
still every night alone is how you sleep.

Your vanity keeps you from showing-up
your time is not free. I have read and read your lines for days,
with never a quivering glimpse for me.
To you I am a toy tossed about when bored.
Shove me in the back of the closet;
hide me with your hoard, those girls from before.

I remember your voice, your timbre, the lilt and laughter that lit the room.
I came to my own conclusions of who you were
no matter who spoke of your doom.
Why am I a sucker for the word that you spread,
a language banquet so fresh and supple, and the feast you led?
I crave the magic of the page unfolding.

To see me, all it would take is a summons
I know will never come, just like you, always undone.
I never trusted you with my heart.
I sat there, held it in my hands; relishing your sermons,
you cried from the pulpit, thirsty, I playing my part.
I never drank the Kool-Aid, always a little too smart.