The Show

I watched you dance like there was nothing worth savoring anymore
The studs on your wrists and belt under the spotlight, shining
A badge of your I don't give a fuck status
The low thrum of the bass guitar strung out, screamed to me
Everything you tried so hard to lock inside, tales of deadbeat daddies
And mothers who just gave up, of nights you couldn't remember
And losing your virginity to a whore old enough to be
Your unwed teenage mother
It was then I noticed how you seemed to tilt your head ever so slightly
So that I was in your direct point of view, unwavering, unafraid, charging into
Your territory with no apologies, no shame, and the burning desire for you
To notice I was wearing your favorite necklace, the one with the wooden beads
Standing in the corner, the object of your new superficial affections, I knew
She saw me, and I knew why she dragged you away after the show
Refusing all offers to catch up, and maybe buy you a drink for old times sake
Because I really miss talking to you, no, jealousy dictated the motions of her
Body across the floor in front of me, so that no matter what I could not
See you walking away, and maybe that's better for me because I'm
So used to watching you leave and how could
You pick that naive little girl over me, but that's just me being bitter
And I digress, cynicism was never my best characteristic
So I left the show alone, and hoped next time you would be too