Don't Worry

I know I'm not worth it.
I know I was never the focus of your attention.

You wanted a willing body, an interested mind, a tarnished sense of self-worth, and uncertainty. You wanted to be able to mold the clay into a design of your liking. Until you found that I was hard, brittle, and cracked. You'd have to smash me, break me, and melt me into nothingness so you could start over.

But that didn't appeal to you.
Did it?

So you keep pounding away. Until you deepened the cracks, weakened the vessel more. And when I broke?

You threw me in the trash.
Where I belonged from the first.

It's okay though. I wasn't worth your time.

I shouldn't have needed approval. I shouldn't have desired your focus. I shouldn't have trusted what I couldn't prove to be true.

It made me vulnerable. It made me weak. And now, it's made me broken.

But don't worry. I understand why you used me. I understand why I was your prey. I understand why things happened the way they did.

Don't worry. I'll survive. In pieces, alone, forgotten, and discarded. Remembering what I've done, daydreaming about where I'd like to be, and attempting to forget that in the eyes of the world, I am useless.