The Boy on the Bench

The night was normal, it seemed to me

holding his breath, Ian longed to be free.

Inside the bar, a band began to play

spirits rose high as his mind slipped away.

Hours went fast, the music loud and clear

a stranger’s dark eyes kept drawing him near.

Poured him a drink that burned like a flame,

pushed past his limits, nothing felt the same.

Everything blurred, his choices turned bold.

never had he felt temptation take hold.

Each look and gesture pulling him in,

down fell his guard, he sank into sin.

Amid the crowd, the wildness grew strong,

too far along to know right from wrong.

In his drunk moment, the stranger’s hand found his,

thirst and confusion crossing the fizz.

Someone outside had watched from the start.

beneath his chest beat a reckless heart.

On the bench waiting, he sat in a daze.

under the moon, lost in a gaze.

Then came the words, “I want to bite you,”

tearing the rush, snapping the night into two.

Ian asked him to stop, the thrill turned dim.

morning arrived with regret inside him.

Eyes on him as the stranger walked away.

inside he wondered if the stranger should've stayed.

Nights passed by, but he drove that street.

there he stood again, their eyes did meet.

Unspoken questions hung, filling the air.

could he have crossed, or did he care?

Shadow of want still flickered inside.

over the feeling, he could not decide.

Never before had he been so near

a choice rushed him, a moment of fear.

Recalled in the city, a night so hot.

inside him lingered a memory he hadn’t forgot.

Zoomed in a flash, the stranger came in.

only he knows how close they had been.

No drink or night has matched that fire,

as Ian's heart remained full of desire.