Blood and Chrome
as the crow flies, his black razor shadow
tearing up the moon,
this is how my hot-wired heart
feels at your rejection.
alcohol fuel-injected twin-turbo hatred
and remorse burns up the
asphalt surfaces of my brain dead emotions.
hot rubber smoke scorches my eyes;
my life lies crushed and mangled,
jagged, wet and dripping
under the terrible tread
of your indifference.
you never felt enough for me
to simply kill me dead;
it would have been kinder.
all I have left is a scarecrow existence
and the taste of blood and chrome
fizzing relentlessly in my teeth.
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