Because I Can

It's hard to wake each day    
fighting to stay king    
of my proverbial jungle,           
hard to have reputation              
of any kind       
and as I fade              
from the faces present              
from the page              
and even from memory,            
do not assume from my silence      
that I'll relinquish rule      
and fall without a fight.
              
Do not trust my words.              
Fading is a bitter business.              
I will write you into a corner              
and having put you there              
grope and molest your sentiment.              
I am the snake              
lying in ambush              
with no need to hunt,            
who carefully marks your paths              
knows your failings,           
who can wait as long as it takes.              
Welcome to the world where I am king              
where I punish you for trusting              
with each line              
with you            
still reading like it's leading somewhere              
like the ending will pull you through              
and then you'll pat my poetic back              
and say this one is better than the last              
or at least it didn't make you sick,    
still throwing those hurt glances    
that search for reasons    
as if written upon my surface.    
              
I rape the reader because I can              
in ten minute increments of anger.              
The act itself is a warning              
that comes too late              
comes after the fact.              
Reading this line causes cancer.              
Reading this line soils your innocence.              
Your well-worn paths, your pauses for breath              
your earnest anticipation              
all lead to an untimely ending.