Maid Service

I see you
not picking up after yourself.
Leaving hearts and bodies
in your selfish wake.
You take and take
until they weep themselves
to sleep while you curl up
in a bed you claim
to have never made.
Smoke and mirrors
throw shade at the shame
you should inherently carry.
Oh, do be wary,
for time has a method
and a madness for empty souls
like the one absent from your skull.
Karma comes,
and karma hulls
the abhorrant
when least expected.
So, say your prayers
before laying your empty-souled
head in that rented bed
you claim to have never made.