You walk around with my heart in your back pocket like an old receipt you forgot about.
You smile, hang out with friends, laugh, drink, while I'm there, stifled, hidden...forgotten.
No clue I'm there, no clue how much I loved you, no clue how much I'll always be in love with you.
You go home and throw your jeans on the floor, almost like trash..the way you threw me.
I end up in a washing machine and my heart gets drowned, ripped apart then burned in the dryer but you only take out the jeans.
Your eye catches pieces of white paper, I think you finally see me and I look up with the gaze of a soul being rescued from hell.
But all you did was gather me up, crumple me, again, after all the hurt and in a final act of rejection, you throw me in the trash, now literally just as figuratively.
I guess my circle of use and relevance is now complete.
You put those jeans on again and go out.
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