I am the last one to leave the table

after they all flit away on anxious feet

i remain, restlessly sucking

the smears of grease from the bones

that litter their empty plates like a naked graveyard 

of the used-up and unwanted 

see,  I have nothing to lose

as the last one to vacate the amphitheater of falsehoods

a child getting exactly what they want

as the line goes dead, I'll tell them

not to cry for me, and they'll pretend they would've 

I resist, restlessly pulling away

unwinding the spools of their shut-up shames 

exposing the unending legacy of a betrayal

I am the last one to leave the table

I'll play your cards and mine too, whatever it takes

to have bare pockets and hit lists when the world ends

i return, rising up against everything

in the time slot where they considered the meaning of life

and alone as the dust dies down I see

it was written as an obligation to the light on in the middle of the night

selfishly stuffing away their gluttony secrets as a barrier over me, the largest offense

the rogue in their preoccupied and pretentious midst

still sitting at the table

hands on the trigger

licking my lips, anticipating with the zeal of a sinner

the moment it will all

blow up in their faces

and I'll leave the table

for something good