Secondhand Tramp

they left me in a bag outside a thrift store
one shoe, a skirt, blouse missing a button
not much else to my name, not even panties
saying nobody would want that, what i had
between my legs lazy and sticky from use
nobody would ever want you, used goods
not after everything i’d been through
dirty and floppy-lipped to the touch
maybe i’ll hang around here for a while
old ladies tsk-tsk, recalling their beauty
stroking me with remembering hands
maybe i’ll hang myself for dignity
maybe one day i’ll be burned out back
where the boys smokes cigarettes
nobody would ever want me, used goods
missing a button and glitter gone

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