(poem from the past)

I am like sugar to her,
A strong confection quickly gobbled up,
Bite by bite,
Piece by sugary piece,
Only enjoyed while I last,
Not savored,
And when she is done,
She will trash my empty shell,
My body,
The wrapper,
Into a waste bin of unwanted.
I am a toy,
Put away when not wanted,
Not wanted much anymore,
Collecting dirt and webs in the corner,
Not worth anything,
Except maybe giving away.
What happened to all those words,
Handwritten,
But not analyzed,
Oh! How I wish I had known,
That they would just become dust,
And just as meaningless,
Ones she easily just brushes away,
Words so carelesly given,
But now cut so deep,
I am left to bleed,
Too weak and tired to stop the torrent of red.
I give and give,
I am better than the past,
But she allows the past to hold her back,
She won't love me for what I am,
She wants so much and doesn't give a damn,
If I can't deliver,
She'll cut me loose,
Putting me where she was,
My neck in a noose.