Untitled #4


Is the bliss of using me,
Worth the torment it causes you?
How can you stand looking in the mirror,
Only to see one who has used?

Being used comes without the shame;
That is left for the one who used.
I can still feel good about it all,
But what about you?

All I have to regret is the wasted time;
Wasted believing I was something to you,
But you must regret it even happened,
Regret it now and always.
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