A lightning storm passes over the pavement,
it blasts it’s electricty into the ashphalt,
leaving behind the strong smell of burning oil.

The stench of the inorganic chokes me,
and reminds me of your heart;
the dark void with a lack of a soul.

You’re all chemical and synthetic,
a mixture of burning plastic, rubber, and vinyl,
that smothers oxygen and human lungs.

Your words shoot poison in every direction,
under the veil of love,
it’s time to move on for both of us,
before I light you up like Kuwait,
and let you burn alone.

July 14, 2009