Swung, dissonant garbage

I'll admit that I can't feel the burn just yet, but I can taste the smoke
Throw me to the wolves spiced how you will, your residue will tear their throats
Betrayal smells of Astroglide and arrogance, feigned innocence and pride
And you should know better by now.

You look too comfortable having all your things thrown out into the street
You're way too well-versed in the subtle art of screamed obscenities

Kick the chair and curse my name, your final prayer will surely be in vain
Apathy and entropy predicted your hypoxic end, you see. (Not me)
Your serotonin soaked swung swan song symphony was Brutus' retreat (too)
And you should know better by now.

You look too comfortable having all your things thrown out into the street
You're way too well-versed in the subtle art of screamed obscenities

And the look in your eyes, just serves to belie, your claim that broken girls can change.