"Always the afterthought, never priority,
I understand what’s in your head..."
I feel the fidgets... the doubt and the double-speak,
you are not sure...
what will be next.
You had some fun...
but now things are getting real,
and you don’t want what that suggests.
Well I’m disposable... a curiosity,
which will fade from your heart and mind.
Don’t you worry, love - just walk away guilt-free,
it won’t be the first time...
someone disposed of me.
Like a child... with a brand new toy,
you coveted...
and played with so sweet.
Now that the newness...
of it has worn away,
what was your victory is now defeat.
I am disposable... an annoyance to shake free,
taken for granted 'til my soul has bled.
Always the afterthought, never priority,
I understand what’s in your head...
my disposal, is your release.
From my youngest days... I’ve known this as truth...
I'm used to it...
you will forget.
Fret not my feelings, love...
for I am empty now,
you took everything that I had left.
I’m disposable... an inconvenient stain,
and I know I have always been.
Don’t you feel remorse, regret nor even pain,
this life is mine to live...
or dispose of, either way.
Original Copyright © 2016 Stone Bryson. All Rights Reserved.
Written March 2016
Known in many (albeit small) online circles over the past 15 years, Stone Bryson is a poet, storyteller, and essayist. He is working on various writing projects, and lives what he describes as an 'analog life.' He resides in Jackson County, Missouri.