This was supposed to be a poem, but there is nothing.
There is no beauty to express how I feel in this very moment tonight.
To be quite blunt:
I fucking hate you.
I hate that you only use me when you're bored,
I hate that i'm just entertainment till something better comes,
I hate that it took me so long to realize
i'm just a toy.
You use me until you're bored, and then it's onto the next thing.
Then after a while, you pick me up again just to see if the same tricks still work.
So you use me a little more, then throw me down somewhere until you need me.
I didn't think I could ever and I told you once before that I wouldn't,
But I fucking hate you.
I won't let you use me anymore.
I won't wind up next time,
I won't go out of my way to please you,
I won't be there when you want me,
And I won't even let you touch me.
Because truth is, i'm broken.
I'm broken beyond repair, and nothing can fix that.
I just had the stupid thought that maybe we could've fixed each other.
But thats not how toys work.
You take parts of one, use it to fix the other back into it's near-original state,
Leaving the first a bit more broken than before.
I'm used to it anyways, so go on.
Find a newer model.
Find one with a glossier coat,
more tricks, and is easier to use.
I just hope it'll be a lot stronger than I was.
