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.