So, somethings you should know about me are pretty common.
I was the one who would pick up a shirt off the floor and say “Hey, this smells like it hasn’t been worn yet.”
Now I know what you’re thinking “Well that’s gross” or “The wrinkle must be awful”, but it was more than that.
I was the one who took my guitar to school and played it for all of my friends in the cafeteria just because I knew one of them was bound to smile even if I couldn’t that day.
Another thing you should know is I have a pile of clothes on my floor that still needs to be washed
I ate on a paper plate last night because I didn’t wanna wash the plate.
I love too hard.
I’ll wonder why you didn’t respond to me and think I’m just an option to you even though I know how busy you are that day.
I’ll lay in my bed for hours even when someone wants to do something as small as play a game with me.
Sometimes I just can’t get up that day.
Sometimes, I’m that shirt on the floor.
Clean, wearable, but skipped over because they’re on the floor, because they’re not as important as the ones in the closet. They’ve got a that one whole at the bottom of the shirt that can easily be tucked in and not seen but, let’s face it, nobody wants to take the time to help them tuck it away. I’m that belt you don’t bother putting on the dresser even though sometimes, I’ll hold everything up for you to keep your private parts of yourself simply to yourself. I’m that pair of jeans that you used to wear everyday but now you’ve found another pair of jeans that you prefer walking in more so I’m slowly sliding under the bed only to be picked up and tossed in a Goodwill bag for the next person who MIGHT need me.
I’m that song played on the guitar that, even though you love right this moment, a month from now you won’t remember. That chord that sticks in your head the way Wonderwall does or Iris. That lyric that you absolutely feel belongs to you but slowly creeps its way out of your mind when the next hit comes along.
I’m that paper plate you put Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner on because no matter how good what it carries is, at the end of the day it’s just going to be another mess you have to clean and it’s better to just throw it away. It’s better to dump me the leftovers in the trash and let it waste away in a dump when trash day comes around and takes it all away.
I’m disposable.
Another thing you should know about me is I don’t trust easily. I used to, and there was a time that I loved everybody the moment I saw them because you were all like fine china, meant to be shown off and collected and cared about. Never used. You were all steak dinners and I savored every bite and took my time and then I washed that plate so delicately so that not to leave a single chip in your porcelain face.
You should know, after all this time though, after all this being disposed of. All of these trash days and broken strings and being crammed in the back of the closet or thrown on the floor. After all the times I’ve been used or washed up and not needed anymore by the people who came to me for everything..
I only use paper plates now. And plastic forks.
I get my jeans and clothes from the 10 dollar rack at walmart.
I don’t live with that same expensive taste I wanted to live with for so long.
And while you’re sitting there, wondering where your favorite pair of jeans went.
I walked away, and I’m going to be happy later, and you’re a song that I just don’t have stuck in my head anymore.
