Used
I used to be okay.
I used to be happy.
But then I was used.
My heart, no longer unbroken.
My skin, now raw.
Bleeding.
From the constant torture I put myself through.
I need to get rid of the pain.
And as you lied, the cuts went deeper.
My scars, more noticable.
Your voice.
Chased away my sainity
Making me cry
Making me scream.
The tears burn, as they touch the scars.
Never going away.
No more room left on my skin.
Where will I hide this pain?
From being used.
( 2004 )
Copyright © Brittney Rhoda-Goode | Year Posted 2008
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