The only reason you unwrapped me

was so I could fill you up inside,

but like a broken pinky swear,

I was quickly cast aside.


I could've sworn you loved me

when I blocked your crying flood.

I was there for you when no one else

would sop up your dense blood.


But now I know you looked at me

only as a tool,

and it hurts my heart simply because

that mess was grossly cruel.


I thought our two hours spent together

meant something special to you.

Evidently, I was wrong - 

I was merely passing through.


I was just a pasty carrier

of a package to keep concealed.

But just between the both of us,

your lips clearly were not sealed.


I am already slick with blood,

but I still don't want to be tramped on.

It isn't like I begged the lord

to birth me as a tampon.

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