I’m Used to Being Unwanted

A poem about rejection

Photo by Kristina Tripkovic on Unsplash

I am used to being unwanted,
It’s moulded to my soul.
A memory foam mattress,
And it’s swallowed me up whole.

I am used to being unwanted,
So often, I’ve got merchandise.
My teardrops staining hoodies,
They don’t sell — I’ve lowered the price.