Dear fuckwad, Rot in hell.

Damaged goods.
There’s just something about damaged goods.

Cheaper;
Not in quality;
In how much you really invested:
Nothing.
Cheaper.

Don’t have to worry about making a scratch.
There’s already a large enough gouge.
Don’t worry about knicks, dings, bruises and bumps;
You’ve already taken out a large enough chunk.

Fragile.
Made up entirely of beautiful blown glistening glass.
Tied together with a smile
held together for just a while.

You’ve carved your named deep into a broken heart.
Certainly have made your mark.

My oh my, you must feel quite like a man.
“The” Man
with her in the palm of your hand.

where do you get off,
guys like you?

high up
on a pedestal
& looking down

Its time that someone takes you down.
I’m taking you down.