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
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.