I’m a throwaway human.
A support system for only when you need.
I’m not a permanent fixture in your ideal world.
You push and pull me in two directions
And I, myself, find it difficult at times
to know whether to stay, or whether to run.
You’ve never known how to love.
You’ve always aimed to please.
But when the right person is standing in front of you,
You, inadvertently, do no else but hurt them.
I opened my heart to you all those years ago.
Raw and true, I put every single feeling on the line.
And yet here you are, time having passed by so fast, still using my love at your disposal.
Why do I take it? Why am I still here? Why am I torn between the choice to stay or run?
Fear of regret. Fear of life without you. I’m already in too deep. You’ve become a furnishing in my world.
To go now, when you need me the most, would be harder than staying.
So I let the torture continue, and I hear your in-genuine words.
But I care too much to give up on you just yet.
I know the real you is in there, and until he re-appears,
I continue, being used.


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