The morning brings headaches, Black bruises, and stains From long-soaking spills, Crumbs ground into carpets by stumbling heels, Meaningless messages scrawled careless on walls were Written by bored ******* waiting to fall. A cake is uneaten on the floor, overturned, On the counter behind it the cutlery, spurned, Is covered in *****, the Price of a night spent Waiting for comets.