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.