I am the dirty rag you use
to clean up your orgasmic stains.
Desired, when I am useful.
Disgusting, once you are satisfied.
Use me, throw me, stain me, taint me.
I have seen your flaws,
but still choose to cleanse you.
Like the dried up rag under your bed,
you hide me from the world.
I am a reminder of your weaknesses.
Your impulsions, you imperfect being.
No purpose do I longer serve,
so on the floor I reside
until you finally see my worth
after you’ve made love only to yourself
and have left none for me