May 23, 2008 08:38
I am more worthless than a bent penny,
than an inkless pen.
More than worn-out shoes,
or old lovers' letters.
I am more used up than an orange peel,
than an empty vodka bottle,
than a rusted-out car,
or a filled condom.
I am more alone than a vacant house,
than a forgotten child;
more alone than the only survivor of a fallout,
or an eagle in a cage.
And it's because I was more trusting,
more hopeful,
and more naive than I should have been.
Used as a substitute until something better came,
used as a stepping stool to the real prize,
used because they knew I was vulnerable.
And alone is where I'll stay.
I refuse to ever be more used than I am today.