Description
"Used Up Garbage"
I can withstand the scorching sun,
the freezing temperatures
and the beating downpours
but you still sometimes make my blood run cold
I can sew myself back together,
fix every nook that I can see,
but my back will be crooked forever
because of every hit that it took
The fact that I'm used up garbage,
rotting last week's vomited-out porridge,
should probably make me feel more upset
but I can no longer be bothered
After having been thrown outside,
used, cast aside and disowned,
the world changed colors,
but there's still an itch in my chest
So, I'll clean every cigarette butt off of me,
all of the dirty and disgusting words,
every pin and needle pricked in my skin,
until I can no longer feel you crawling in me
because I am soft enough
(re-upload to fix signature)
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