I’ll be waiting for when the night-time crowds diminish
Into glittering shadows, after the masqueraders carouse past three
Watch them dance their night and paychecks away
Pining for pandemonium, aching to ingest a riot
I’ll wait for them to be done with their beers and bar sluts
When they all crawl home, all the nighttime crowds
All the women who have done what counts as cheating now
The criminals, the career engineers, all the bipolar bad girls
Everyone between picture-perfect and neglected-nude
When they crawl home I’ll be waiting in their beds
As they succumb to the moon’s translucent might
I’ll spend the night spinning their nightmares,
Out of nothing but black hopes that grow like weeds and
Two dollar’s worth of dime-store paint. I will give them
The escape they wished for, I will be their concubine of chaos
The tar of night shades the earth with no man’s land
My saline stare will scald their memories, scorch them to dust
I’ll save the sweetest pains for last, and swallow slowly
Until the sky is awash with sun-blood dripping down
They are all mine, as I grip them tightly with cracked nails
Even though I only see through closed eyelids and murky dreams
I am a part of everything. Fill their days with dirt, unexplained sting
I’ll be the reason they aren’t having satisfying sex
And why they flunked out of business school, they’ll wonder why
But the answer’s in your bed, your safe warm bed
I am every scumbag college kid strung out on caffeine
I am every one of their single mothers addicted to sleeping pills
I am every distraction, every deep-rooted desire
Every television set and video game software and street drug
I will preserve my patience until the next night; I’ll keep waiting.
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