Being Used

HE'S USING ME. 

I used to think I was fine with it, 
making out just for fun. 
No feelings, 
just feeling. 
But I was wrong. 
He doesn't want me for me, 
he treats me like an object. 
Something to kiss,
but his heart isn't in it. 
He couldn't care less, 
he just wants my lips. 
He just wants my body. 
I still don't know why, 
as I'm not as pretty as other girls, 
but he wants it. 
All he wants is to kiss. 
We used to be friends. 
He used to care. 
He used to hold me as I cried. 
He used to wonder. 
Now he's just using me. 
Taking me in and not letting me go. 
I thought I could stop feeling, 
but it's not as easy as it sounds. 
All he wants is my body, 
leaving my heart in the dust. 
He just wants to sweep me up, 
in the moment, 
in the night. 
But he doesn't want me, 
like a daughter of a king should. 
He's just using me! 
But I can't stop. 
I keep going back, 
even though I know I could do better. 
I don't want him, 
but I do. 
I don't want to want him. 
I just want him to stop. 
He kisses me like he wants something, 
something I can't give. 
"Baby steps" He says, 
thinking he can take what I won't give. 
"Next time." He says, 
taking one more piece of me. 
He's going to leave me heartbroken. 
He warned me to shut off my emotions. 
But I can't do it. 
I still stupidly care. 
I still wish. 
I still want. 
All I need is someone to want me. 
For me. 
He's not that. 
But at least he's someone that wants something from me... 
He's just using me. 
 
And I let him.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

May Angel

This is exactly how I have felt many times in the past. You have explained it perfectly.

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