disposable douche

i’ve arrived at this conclusion

I am…

disposable.

I know, I know–

no one is simply expendable;

I am far from superfluous and

definitely not nonessential…

I have purpose.

but…

how easily tossed away I can be

easily forgotten-

easily replaced.

temporary.

and when I say the wrong thing-

do, the wrong thing-

-again-

ask the wrong thing

-again-

(what a jackass!)

when i focus on cleaning up a mess

a mess someone else made

(and no one even asked me)

mopping up after the

assassins of hope,

the killers of dreams…

the heartbreakers,

the shallow and self centered

when I focus on this, I become

less than they

less…

worth, less.

worthless.

I am temporary,

a fix;

perhaps filler for a hole

that seems to

need something

at this moment

but I’m no Billy Vera.