The Life of a Lipbalm is a Sorrowful One

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.