My heart, ***** with anger, ***** with the desire to take what you wanted from me and ceased to exist. “It’s the thought that counts right? The notion that I could have ever loved you” I perceived obligated to be loved back in a sincere way not just manipulation. Not just from a lack of potential that you may have speculated, that it was pointless. but I knew there was more than that. I knew it could be different. There had to be more. You wouldn’t have shown me all of your features, every part of your soul, that a person could never possibly see. Every part of your body you let me explore with my finger tips, Your lips that touched mine every time you craved me, your teeth that would sink into my lips telling me more! More! Your tongue that would drag across my neck telling me you wanted every single part of me. your touch, your hands that had been stabbing away at me, my heart stabbed several times in my devotion to you. My loyalty to you, and only you had been ripped away when you said you didn’t want me anymore, didn’t need me anymore. You didn’t want this. You wanted something more passionate. something that would be as simple as letting me go. I was the dust that you’d brush away from your hands after you finished a ***** deed, a job you no longer wanted because there was a better opportunity for you. Something different but a new experience, a new toy, a new range of emotions to exploit. Just to have the thoughts linger around your mind, telling you, you never wanted this at all. You never wanted simple. You wanted partnership with the rage of all the emotion that would make you feel everything at once. Every awakening nerve to feel at ease when you’d get the glimpse of wanting to **** someone’s heart over and over, and just having it happen with no regrets and no one telling you no. You want to ****, manipulate, yell, scream, with the knife in your hand with no one running from you. You need that security of them staying and never leaving your side. No matter what storm you bring with you.

i keep getting used,
over,
and over,
and over,
and over.
i'm over-overused.
when i was still usable,
you'd take advantage of me.
i was bait for a trap,
sometimes for me.
overused.
doesn't sound like a real word anymore.
it itself is overused.
i would like to start over.

for you being the only one i have to count on
you sure aren’t really there for me lately

maybe my everything isn’t enough for you
and that’s not your fault

but before you count all the things i couldn’t give you
don’t forget the times you took advantage of me too