You were a beautiful, late 70's Firebird. Charging through life with the power of 100 horses, easily going 40 over the limit from day one.
During the summer I became a stormy night, The ditch that caught you when he turned into an oil slick. I got to hold you for some time.
She is your tow truck, arriving just as you started to welcome me as a home.

All the while, since the day I met you. You became a shelter for the storm that has been brewing for years.
Now you are gone & let me tell you something darling, It's ******* hurricane season, and I'm just a lighting rod, all I feel is the lighting ripping my chest apart more and more with every strike.

I might as well be one of your father's burger wrappers because you threw me out with a slight sense of disgust and ease.