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.