Used

In his weak moments, he says that he still loves me, that he misses me. But somehow he only finds his way over when he wants to fuck. There's always a little bit of obligatory friend chat, then straight into rough, empty sex. He's not even really trying to hide that he's using me. I'd be lying if I said I didn't like it.

Most of my mistakes, I'd keep, given a choice. But I wouldn't mind having used less people. All I can do is not do it again, and be sincerely sorry, I guess.

i once bought a used text book. on the front cover was a yellow strip of tape with the words "USED USED USED USED USED" scrolled across in big black letters.

i stuck that piece of tape on my forehead and took a picture.

every now and then i go back to look at it. i don't think that back then i felt quite as used as i do now.

weird, isn't it.