(no subject)

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.
Previous post Next post
Up