You know how many girls he's emptied like
a bottle filled with beer? He drinks up all
their love then throws their bottle bodies to

the trash or sometimes shatters them into
a thousand shining splinters that then fall
onto the sidewalk glistening just like

their tears. And they get stuck to shoe and bike
so much they cease to anymore and all
together fight out an existence, too.

Well, we the bottles, shattered, cry to you
as we are broken, scream out as we fall,
since none of us intoxicated like

he thinks you do. Discarded for your spike,
but you don't care to hear our splintered call.
Don't like him, but you like him chasing you.