Hostel,hostile.

The resentment I bear for where you chose to lay your hat seems ludicrously irrational.
It was I who sought you this place with all its attachments
and squalor,
all part of the package.
I resided two weeks as it wasn't my scene.
Outgrowing the party-animal phase when I expected one should.
Open minded I consider myself,
but an alcoholic? I never quite acquired the taste for it.
One also needs to snatch forty winks to survive this,"rat race culture."
Instead for you,It became your basic human need.
A sanctuary of exotic birds ruffled your fickle feathers.
Obscure,ritualistic drinking partners.
your own private sect.
Popularity became you.
King of all drinkers,
renowned for your enduring, "guzzling till daylight," performances.
Suddenly you were someone.
Others came and went
yet you became a permanent fixture,
A rock solid tenant.
Lord of the manor.
Summer came, bringing with it flocks of fresh,glowing faces.
Babbling rapidly in other tongues.
There you were,
Charm syndrome man.
Readily awaiting to welcome them to,"Hotel Paradiso."
I was soon dismissed like a rotting carcass by the wayside.
Sweeter,tenderer meat was your gusto now.
Night after night you baptised your new found home with a flag to fly from every nation.
A new invitation.
As for me,the locks had been changed in your heart,
I could no longer take part.
I,the one that you superfically bled for.
What would your new found followers think?
On discovering your shaded areas in the midst of your colourful facade?
Like moths to a flame,
Bees to a honey pot,
you enthralled all around with your wit and charisma.
We were spotted one day,
away from your territory.
No one aware I even exsisted.
Your stow-away lover.
I,feeling like your mistress in a sordid brain-washed sense,
saw red through my green eyes.
How low could you stoop?
Dr Jeckyll and Mr Hyde,
a master of disguises.
The illusionist himself.
So accommodating to the latter.
They say,no-one knows the consequences behind the closed doors.
I,the stockholm syndrome martyr built layer upon layer of solid denial.
More the fool was I.
Thinking I possessed a gift you see.
To calm him.

I thought I was his sedative.
A soothing sponge to soak up his pain.
Superhuman to survive such injustice.

When the penny finally dropped that I was just one of many.
All emotional investment reduced to liquidation.
I didn't wish to be any.