Array ( [sid] => 54320 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Used [time] => 2004-07-01 00:27:17 [hometext] => a poem I wrote about being used for comfort feedback welcome [bodytext] => And just like that she's done with me,
calling only when she needs my voice
to fill the void her friends are too busy to fill.

Out of guilt for broken promises and regret over harsh words she sees me, trying to fabricate a friendship I can hardly build out of pieces of a broken love.

she confesses to me, finally, honestly
that she doesn't know why, if she cares or if she just needs me to be there, becuase she knows I always will; she doesn't know if she just uses, because I'm the familar pillow that comeforts, that she can verbally punch in anger, and put away when I'm not needed or because she loves me.

I'm used goods. Now is the summer time, time to put away your old winters clothes.
I have been put away,
until she feels that loney chill. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 160 [topic] => 52 [informant] => Brie [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => goodbyepoetry ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Used


Used
Date: Thursday, 1st July 2004 @ 12:27:17 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: Brie
And just like that she's done with me,
calling only when she needs my voice
to fill the void her friends are too busy to fill.

Out of guilt for broken promises and regret over harsh words she sees me, trying to fabricate a friendship I can hardly build out of pieces of a broken love.

she confesses to me, finally, honestly
that she doesn't know why, if she cares or if she just needs me to be there, becuase she knows I always will; she doesn't know if she just uses, because I'm the familar pillow that comeforts, that she can verbally punch in anger, and put away when I'm not needed or because she loves me.

I'm used goods. Now is the summer time, time to put away your old winters clothes.
I have been put away,
until she feels that loney chill.

This poem is Copyright © Brie


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