I sit here,
Poised,
On the soles of my feet,
Waiting,
Watching,
My eyes creeping slowly
Back
And
Forth
Across the ballroom floor.
I'm waiting for you,
My eyes squinting,
Looking,
Waiting,
Trying to find
Any piece of you
Anywhere.
The glimmer of hair,
The blinding blue eyes,
The shrill terror
That's known as
Your voice
Or even
That chic, overly priced ballroom dress
That you picked out last night.
I wait,
And I wait,
And still you don't come
I'm sitting,
Waiting,
Watching,
Just hoping that you show.
I see imitation girls
With dyed blond hair
And even
Colored contacts
To match you.
Amateurs,
They are,
Not even coming close
To the fakeness that's you.
Not coming close
To the empty crevasse
That's you
Deep down
Inside.
No one can see me.
Not to my knowledge
That's how I want it
Even if you do stroll in.
I don't want you to see me.
I want you to be
Yourself,
So that
I can know who you are
And know what you do
So I won't feel as bad
Once I slit your throat.
And I sit here,
And wait,
Watching,
Waiting,
Trying to find out
Who'll be the next victim.
Trying to find out
How I'll feed my family next.
You stroll in half trashed
Laughing so shrilly
I almost fall.
Everyone looks to you,
You drunken fool,
Your new dress,
Half torn,
With a martini glass in hand
And a boy you just met on the other.
I'll feel no remorse
Once you're gone.
You start to head out,
But trip on your heels
And you giggle it off,
Because everyone sees you're a fool.
I shake my head,
Knowing life will be much better
Once this job
Is complete.
You cry and you moan,
And no one cares anymore,
They turn back to dancing,
Sparkling the floor.
I get down from the rafters,
As quick as I came,
Making my way over
To your
Sticking, drunken ass.
I ask your bodyguard
If I can take you home,
I'm part of security,
And I know what I'm doing.
It's always the newbies,
I thought as your bodyguard
Smiled at the opportunity
To get the night off.
He told me your key number,
Telling me to have fun.
I grin nicely,
And I look over to you,
As drunk as a skunk,
Vomiting up
Next to the trash can.
I pick you up slowly,
Telling you we need to go home,
And you moan,
Saying that you're having too much fun.
I take you away,
Putting you in the back seat,
Smiling wildly
As I've got what I need.
I pulled out the blade,
Before starting the car,
Driving as fast as the damn thing
Near let me.
You complain,
And you puke,
But I know I'm getting
My money tonight.
Once there's no more lights
And all I see is the road,
I pick up the blade,
And go back over to you.
You start to complain,
Telling me to take you home,
But I smile as I grab
Your no longer glimmering hair,
And I laugh as I look
Into those fearful blue eyes
And I smirk as I stain with your blood
Your once chic, overly priced ballroom dress
That you had picked out last night.