You look down on us
as redeemers and saviors,
and people worship you
as prophets and messiahs.

But when was the last time
you dressed in worn-out clothes,
lived from paycheck-to-paycheck,
or worried about making a rent payment?

When was the last time
every step wasn’t choreographed,
every word wasn’t teleprompter-tested,
and every action wasn’t polished to a superhuman shine.

You spread sweetened words,
hoping that we’ll love you,
hoping that we’ll lift you up,
hoping that we’ll make your dreams come true.

You’re called public servants,
but you only serve your own ambitions,
and all your empty promises
won’t put the world to rights.

But maybe I’m just too jaded,
maybe I’m too judgmental,
or maybe I’m just too damn tired
of watching what all of you are doing to our country.

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I shake the world
with every step.
Creating, destroying
with every step.

You hold your breath
with every step.
Your heart in your throat
with every step.

The world goes still
with every step.
A torrent of applause,
with that last step.

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I reach into the darkness
before I remember that you’re gone,
and it’s like losing you all over again.

Because as hard as the days are,
I can manage.
But the unprotected nights
are the worst.

Because my walls are down,
and I miss you,
and I want you back,
I can’t live without you –
but I have to.

So piece-by-piece,
and tear-by-tear,
I rebuild my life
in a lonesome 3:00 am bed,
and promise myself in vain
that this will be the last time I break.

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An idle afternoon dream,
the explosion of a future
from across the room.

The feel of your skin,
the taste of your lips,
the long years stretching out
by your side.

But dreams are for dreaming,
and the waking world
is far more complicated.

Do you already have someone?
Would you welcome my attention?
Would asking be too bold,
or am I not being bold enough?

But you don’t even look at me –
you haven’t this entire time –
and in that realization

I have my answer.

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On the bad days,
on the rock-bottom days,
when I’m all out of fucks to give,
I don’t want to be a good man.

I want to be a Blade,
and be the avenger
that puts this war-crazy world
to the sword.

I want to be a Beast,
and show everyone
how well I learned
their dog-eat-dog lessons.

I want to be a Demon,
and command the night
when I walk without fear
past the sheeple in the gloom.

I want to be The Devil,
and give you something to hate,
because I’ve seen how much you love to hate,
and tonight I want to make your dreams come true.

But I also want to be The Better Man,
so I take this feral blade,
this devil among devils,
and sheathe him,
giving myself fresh scars in the process.

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Strangers in the evening,
and strangers in the morning.
But while the night lasts…

They are the Stars
of the next Hollywood hit,
so suave and sophisticated
that their courtship seems choreographed.

They are pure energy,
a magnetic attraction
as impossible to resist
as it is to ignore.

They are a spectacle
that draws everyone’s eyes,
and causes couples to crash
from rubbernecking their romance.

They are a summer storm –
heavy, hot, and humid,
crashing against each other
with thundering laughter and lust.

But when the night has passed
and dawn breaks the spell at last,
two people unsure of what to say
turn and walk their separate ways
from a night that means nothing – and everything.

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