Throwaway girl is only your name to a runaway man; can you hear him calling? No, you can’t. Because he’s long gone. Ran away as fast as he ran to your side once upon a time, but you don’t remember the staying because the leaving was a punch straight in the gut; how’s it feel? The way the leaving lingered as if to say, you’re gonna feel this every day until I’m done with you. And then he was done wasn’t he? Showed you a new meaning to that, how to be a stranger like that, how to keep bleeding out as he flicked your memory off his skin like a burden he couldn’t wait to forget.
Throwaway girl, wake the fuck up. You think you’re the first he threw away hard and ran away? No, you’re not and you won’t be the last either, love. You loved him, I know. But you can’t love gentle hands, wandering eyes and a cruel heart. You can’t expect people to love you the way you love, even when they say, even when they lie so well you believe it deep in your soul. Where’d they go?
They left, throwaway girl. They scooped out every ounce of self worth you had, threw it in their pocket, and said fuck you, after they fucked you. That’s where they went.
Throwaway girl, don’t blame yourself for that. They took the good from you, stuck it deep in their own wounds, licked it clean to plug the void and hit the road.
Throwaway girl, that’s not your name anymore, same as it never was before. Don’t answer. You are not a trick or treat bag that can be picked through and discarded. You are not disposable, you are not a toy for someone who gets off on mind games.
You are brilliant. Anyone who doesn’t see the way your heart splits and breaks with passion and colors and everything that builds the universe from your very spine, doesn’t deserve to see such a breathtaking view.
Throwaway girl, don’t answer to that name. You are galaxies; Nothing less. Do you see yourself? I hope you see yourself. Please see yourself. Look up at all the stars; there you are.