Tool

People see me as a tool,

Something for them to drain

All of their emotional damage into like a pool,

And once they're empty and I am full,

They disappear and I'm left looking like a fool,

It hurts me because I can't hold anymore,

And people seem to think I'm not worth anything

Unless I have more room for them to pour,

But the more damage I take,

The more I feel my heart break,

Its shattered and lying on the floor,

Covered in the water

And filled with all it's gore,

And I don't know if I can take it anymore,

They're standing around me

Buckets in hand,

But when they go to spill their water

There's nowhere for it to land,

So here I overflow,

And I watch them turn around

Walking away,

Only knowing they will return another day

When they have more water to get rid of,

Like I'm incapable of love,

Only holding the regrets and sadness of others,

Filling small holes for them until they leave,

And that's my purpose,

Or so everyone seems to believe

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