10.01
I…
Am an emotional tampon!
You bleed your issues onto me.
I prevent your heavy flow from spilling onto the street.
Only existing for you to let it out with comfort.
I…
Am an emotional tampon!
Backing up the plumbing of my mind when you flush me.
Overflowing, pouring on the bathroom floor of my heart.
I…
Am an emotional tampon!
You discard me soaked with your pain.
A life unmade hits me, our potential unfertilized
A slap in the face that i will be removed
A promise you will never see me another way
But what you do to me happens more than once a month.
How can you discard me, when I’ve done so much for you?
How can you discard me, when I’ve proven I’m worth it?
When you would tell me your problems, I used to say:
“Let’s go eat ice cream and watch the oxygen channel.”
I am NOT your fucking girlfriend!
I will NOT allow you to go fuck your boyfriend, and then emotionally cheat on him with me!
I…
Am an emotional tampon!
You keep pulling me along with this string!
The only difference between me and a tampon is that only one of us gets to go inside your vagina!
Ooooh, women. You can’t live with ‘em…
But, I digress.
Hindsight has brought me here.
Or rather, sight of your hind-curves.
Alas, I was thinking with the wrong head.
Now that I’m thinking with the right one
I realize I put myself in your purse.
Rubbing elbows with your other tools, desperate to be used.
My tissue paper skin begging to be torn open.
Indecent exposure.
Imploring you for sexual compensation
Piteous, longing for sexual collaboration
Determined for visceral amalgamation
I’d be better off with a heroin addiction!
At least with heroin, you know where you stand.
You can’t hurt heroin’s feelings when you quit.
Heroin doesn’t scream at you when you go cold-turkey.
I was addicted to the way I felt after I thought I made a difference to you.
I became a maid to your maladies.
A devotee to your melodrama.
A compulsive for your petty peddling.
A vampire addicted to your flow.
I used to be an emotional tampon.
Now, you can find someone else to bleed on.