His breath tasted like ash
His hands felt coarse
The softness that once pervaded his personality
Gave way to a jagged precipice that was him incarnate
Why treat someone right if you have someone on the side?

Everything that I once recognized as beautiful
Now burns up in the wreckage that is his smoldering BMW
Maybe that ***** in his bed will get the message sooner than I did.
With a strike of a match, and about a gallon and a half of gas,
I go places,
But he won’t be able to.