Drink up now

I wrote this in a fit about a woman who's been in my head for ages, and messes with me in ways too complex for me to describe. It isn't a romantic attachment if that's what you're thinking.

Drink up now,
Feed while you can.
Drink you fat sow—
Leech the poor young man.

Who knows when he’ll come next?
And offer himself to you
Never realizing the sub-text
Dense, missing the cue.

Third wheel, second fiddle, safety net
Call him what you will.
But on this you can surely bet.
He’ll be there waiting still.