Im so sick of it.

Im sick of being used,

Sick of crying myself to sleep.

Most of all, Im sick of being abused.

I may not show it,

But my heart is battered and bruised.

Ive tried to sew it back together,

But it still looks so crude.

Every time I try to keep it together,

Someone comes and rips the stitches.

They act like theyre in love,

Then they turn around and become bitches.

They leave me when Im down,

When Im at my worst.

They just wanted some fun,

Not me of course.

No, why would they want me?

Im the used one in the back.

Just waiting for someone to want me,

Or maybe to be cut some slack.

Im sick of hiding who I am,

How I truly feel.

Im sick of these demons following me,

Maybe theyll leave if I make a deal.

(not my best work, but its something)