You Left Me

You left me.
You fucking left me.
For a flat-chested fat-ass skank
with a husband and three kids
and her husband
is your best friend
who always took
your side against mine.
But I guess that's the way
your heart moved today.
So you fucking left me
and I'm supposed to sit here
and cry
and want you back.
Well I do.
And I'm crying
(with a bottle, goddammit).
And I don't have a
positive, reaffirming message today.
Because I know that it takes two
to tango
to fuck
to make a relationship self-destruct.
It's half my fault.
We were sick
and diseased
long before you decided
to ride the married town bicycle.
I know that.
That being said,
you left me.
You fucking left me.

Repeat ad nauseum,
or until my drunken ass passes out.