Pop! What? It all happened so quickly. First I felt a gush of wind, and then your slightly cracked lips. You knew exactly what to do with me. But I'm an amateur. They said I am to be a healer of kisses, and cold. What an odd combination of Life Callings. Somehow, some depend their lives on my existence. And some would bring me everywhere they go. Well, I wouldn't know, until you opened me up. Every time you put your lips on my body - always so swift, so elegantly - part of me lingers on your skin. And I would feel from underneath me that you are slowly healing. How glad I am to be in this job. I love your lips!

When you breathe heavily through your teeth, with your lips spread thin, surrending yourself to her, I kept you together. When you kissed another girl, I did not complain, nor need I, because I knew I was yours. I knew you couldn't live without me. When you fought with the first girl and she slapped you, I felt the pain. Boy, I wished you hadn't done it. Why did you cheat? But she would finally kiss you again. And I still feel the humidity between both of your mouths until today. That heated kiss. I could almost hear you promise, "never again."

But one day you stopped coming for me. I wondered why. Have I not done a good job? Do you not like my taste? And my scent? Am I not enough for you, just the way I am? I hear scrambling in the room. "Where could it be?" you said. Are you talking about me? I'm here! I screamed, but I could only in my mind. I long for your lips, Master. Do you long for mine? My heart is bursting for your touch again. They did say that I am easy to misplace. I see through the fabric of your pants, as you toss me in the wash.

This is the end. I loved you. But you misplaced me. How could you? Now I shall sacrifice my life, and take my revenge.

Ah, yes! Breaking that seal... I'm so ready.

Pull my top off, yes!

Fresh air... Nice!

You like me rubbing myself on you, don't you? I can tell.

It's okay. You can use me and put me aside for later. Tuck me in your back pocket. I don't care. I'll be here. I was made for your lips.

What the heck?

Floating in a giant tub, still firmly your back burner girl.

This is not how I wanted you to get me all wet.

Next go round you have me heated.

I'm melting.

I'm melting.

I'm all done.

It was real. A life so long and genuine that most can only dream.

I remember the first time we met as I caressed her lips. Rejuvenating her dry and cracked existence. I knew then, I would try to see this through. I did not know, she would stick with me until the bitter end.

I have stayed with her everyday for 298 days. Not always needed but always around. Just in case. I have seen dear friends meet their end much sooner. Discarded and forgotten while still in their prime. It takes a special bond to make it for as long as we did.

I feel myself growing smaller and more brittle with age. My shroud tattered and dingy. Bits of dirt and pocket lint caked in corners. But when I go, I can say I was the one she didn't loose. I can say I gave her everything I could. And with my dying breath I scraped her lips leaving her dry and cracked.

I am the fully used tube.

My mood is one of balminess when I reminisce about my creation a long time ago. I was conceived from beeswax and her mate, lanolin, product of a virgin birth (or so beeswax and lanolin tried to persuade me since they hardly knew each other at the time of their coupling) in a stable-like structure called a factory. My soft cradle was cushioned with Styrofoam peanuts. Even wise men were transformed by my allure, needing, yes wanting, me daily! They never could get enough of my rounded body. Although I was transparent in my soft and pure youth, I began to acquire STD’s when I became active. (sensually transmitted daubs when I developed a tint of color in my cheeks as I blushed coquettishly) During my many mergings, I acquired paraffin and petroleum as well as other nefarious pairings. You might say I have a sordid past but I just claim that I am an amalgam of passionate linkings. Men begged to put their lips to my moisture after they slipped off my sheath torpidly with their probing fingers. I melted languidly on their mouths just like tiny chocolate M&M’s - seductive and sensual with a slight flavor which lingers in their minds. My aroma is passionate and enduring as they savor me in their dreams.

Alas, most of the chaps seem to use me and discard me when they are through without a backward glance. I feel real pain as they throw me away, just an empty vessel without purpose or meaning. I still have my flashbacks of what we once were to each other. But I must warn my sisters, waiting for their turn, that they too will have a fate worse than being an unused repository as they die a slow death as I once did. I try to persuade them to cast themselves into a fire pit where they will cease to exist before they are abused and useless. I only wish that I opted for this solution but it is too late for I am lying lifeless on the ground where I will never be found. Oh, but the hot and passionate memories I have of my youth!

The day has come! I finally have a mother, a father, I finally have someone who is mine. Or am I theirs? We head home in the car, I'm still wrapped up in my rough blanket, unable to see my newfound family. Once we arrive at the house, they take me to my room. It's a very bright place, I have my own toilet and sink! I love my new home. My mother begins to strip me of my clothing, uncomfortable, I wish to be deep within my pants but I can not fit. She touches me, rubs me all over with her finger and then presses me to her lips. Gently caressing her lips I coat her with my sticky self. This goes on for days, months even, before finally, I'm all used up. My mother no longer wants me, I can provide her no more pleasure anymore. This saddens me, I am now only an empty shell of what I once was, what I once had. I am tossed aside, wrapped in a smelly blanket of food and disposables. I see a used pregnancy test next to me, am I being replaced? Is the heart of my mother being stolen away by a human child? I thought that I was the one who made mother happiest, but I was wrong. Silently, I am thrust into a newfound darkness, never to be seen again.

You use me

covering ragged

skin

dry and cracked

and I heal you.

The barrier between

the air

and where it shouldn’t be;

the wall

the skin

should have been.

You use me

softening the kiss

or filling slow moments

in waiting rooms

and parked cars.

You use me up.

When we first met I was strong and buff. I thought I was the love of your life. When you kissed my smooth surface for the first time.... wow. We went every where together. Then things fell apart. You kissed another right in front of me. I didn't want you back then I caved. You used me until there was nothing left, then you just throw me away. By that time I was weak and then I was gone.......   

It had been a hard 3 months at Walgreens. Another day, another pair of lips with someone else’s sweet name on it. I was on the verge of expiring, and not once had I been used... What will I say to the great God in lip balm heaven? Shame is what I’ll bring, that’s what...

Well color me surprised!

Some poor sack of lips picked me up!

I’ve never been so happy in my short, mostly uneventful, life! To think, I was going to be used upon dry, maybe even cracked, lips. It was a good week or so before it happened. I had done my job. I whipped those useless lips into something kiss worthy. Now, it was time to go. Back at the factory, they had warned us about the end but I never thought it would hurt this much.

I’m almost empty.

Only a day before I expire...

I guess this is the last time he’ll close me up.

Honestly, being lip balm kind of sucks. But those shiny new lips I helped create make the sorrow all worthwhile...

What is this?

This is such a dumb existence, really, when you think about it. I am here for you, never me. I heal the cracks in your lips, somehow. I don't understand it very well myself.

I am here for you, always. Sitting in the bottom of your purse, occasionally forgotten until I am needed.

I mean, the lips are nice, I suppose. You have nice lips.

But then again, I have no other frame of reference. You are the only person I have ever come in contact with. You are stingy about hygeine, so you'd never let anyone else so much as touch me.

You like to drink a little too much.

I am left in a cab one drunken night, alone in your purse. I want to yell to you that you forgot me, but I am merely a piece of plastic.

The purse falls to its side, and a bit later a man picks it up, gives it to the driver.

 I am put in a box.

You come to get me, eventually. Did you end up sleeping with that man from the cab? He seemed like a creep. I hope you didn't.

I am picked up, by you, and oh, here are the lips again. They are very chapped today. Returning to the status quo, I suppose.

Your phone drops next to me, with the screen announcing 3 new texts from Gabe, with 3 animal emojis and a heart eyes next to his name.

Oh, God. You're dating that loser, aren't you?

I sigh, as much as a tube of plastic with a waxy interior can sigh.

You better not throw me away anytime soon, honey. You need me.