With the Garbage

The street was abandoned,
no light glistened
through the grimy windows,
and oily slime was decoration
for the stone-faced ground.
Left alone and lonely,
I walked through the alley,
owned by none and disgusted by many,
without any hope of refuge
since rejection became my friend.
A hand grasped my arm,
tightly imprisoning my body
and loosely capturing my mind.
Fear left me cold and complacent
as a son of Satan took me
and broke me as if given a map,
the clearly laid directions showing
how to dislodge protection from my heart.
The street became abandoned once more,
the doors were shut,
no screams were heard,
and no light appeared upon my body
while it lay, tossed aside with the garbage.