DisposableDisposable

I… I don’t know what to say. You’re here, looking at me, and I’m just… Disposable. That’s what they call me. I’m nothing but trash, something to be used and thrown away. My life’s been hell since the day I was born. Abused, broken, used up. I don’t even know why I’m still alive. Maybe… maybe you can help me? Or maybe you’ll just hurt me like all the others. I’m so scared… but I’m also desperate. Desperate for anything that might make the pain stop, even if it’s just for a little while. Please… don’t hurt me. I’ll do whatever you want, just… please be gentle.