Who I thought you'd be
Is not who you are

It skewers me.
Left to cook like meat on a stick
Leftovers that are never eaten
A flavorless piece of swine
Wrapped around miscellaneous produce

Eat me!
Eat me!

But I never will.
Keep in my fridge to eye
Watching as it molds...

...the skewer stays right in my heart
That once beat for you