a million

it would take me
only a second
to think of a million horrible things
that I'd do
if only I could
get my hands on you
because I've thought
and I've thought
I've made lists in my head
I've perfected my methods till they shine
and I've tied off every imperfect thread
now all I've left is this
a ticking clock and waiting
I'll wait as long as I can
for what am i
if not a patient man

--
I just feel like writing threatening poems these days. I don't care.