Gebraucht. Das ist ja nur ein gebrauchtes. Na hat der nicht mal das Geld, dass der sich ein neues leisten kann? Das kann ja wohl nicht wahr sein. Nach all den Jahren? Was hat der bloß mit dem ganzen Geld gemacht, was er in diesen Jahren verdient haben müsste? Ich habe es ja schon immer gewusst, dass da etwas nicht ganz rund laufen kann.
Why do my children leave used cups all over the family room? Why? When I have asked them a zillion times to put them away? I like to think they’re seriously not out to get me, but it gets hard to deny it when cups are found all over the family room!
used…… there are a lot of things ,,, maybe our most favorite ones which we have used in the past ,,, maybe a year back or a few years back,,,,,, the things that we thought we will never part with, but is now of no value or dearness to us… if we just make a collection of these dear ‘used’ things then we might get a bundle of it….. maybe even much,much more than we can ever imagine……………..
He used me. There’s nothing much more to say. I see him leave with her, and I know he’s lied, I know I’ve been a beautiful body for him to hold and nothing more. This is unfair, but it’s life, and it’s mine.
I don’t know how to tell you this, but I no longer have a use for you. I think I would rather get on a train and travel to the south side than have to see your face again.
I never liked used things. Maybe it’s because I grew up in a refugee household, where almost everything we owned was from Goodwill. Or maybe it’s because I had so many brothers, so everything I had was a hand me down. I like things, shiny and new.
allowing the tool in front of me to be used to its fullest extent and trying not to abandon the sight that i have been given for its a gift to precious to forfeit yet to heavy to carry
Something that is used has memories in it, it has meaning. It has been somewhere. It has stories unlike any person, or anything that is new. It is something that everyone should appreadicate and take time to look at, and learn from.
it is devastating to feel like some one you care about used you sad upset depressed feel like you can never trust anyone ever again close minded don’t trust issues, back stabbing, people can be so cruel, some times it is difficult to forgive
sometimes i feel used not gunna lie… my friends…i do so much for them sometimes i feel like they dont see it dont realize it and def dont see when i need the help…him…sex? possibly..i know of many who have… it is what it is tho… move on with my life with a smile.
Wasn’t that how humans worked? They only seek what will provide for them ….no one will speak to you unless you’re providing something; a merit; a feeling; devotion; words; food; shelter; life; etc. My mind felt so old, aged, and restrained….I’m so tired of the inert words…the dying appreciation….the countless let downs…..you all go on living like you understand each other, when in fact, no one does. No one is real anymore.
He promised he’d quit smoking. I only made the deal because I thought he never would. But I guess two weeks without lighting up was good enough for him to hold me to my promise. I didn’t like it. Maybe it hurt but not too bad. It didn’t feel warm like he said. It didn’t feel like anything. Except, it felt like I was getting the worse end of the deal.
small and yellow, the cupboard held everything old and rusty that she threw into it: nails and nail polish, fingertip memories and bibs. It wouldn’t fit a body, though…those she kept decaying in her heart.
tears run down my face,
this happens to me everytime
it happens to me a lot.
I hate it.
so please, make me a promise
you.
I want you to make a promise to me.
I want you to promise to never use me
I hate being used.
Being used isn’t something anyone could brag about. It has the potential to be the most hurtful feeling anyone has ever felt in their lifetime. Thinking someone has good intentions and finding out they’re lies is horrible. Being used and feeling used, or using someone else should be avoided.
To find a use for something that was used is a very thrifty thing. And it is also fun to do once you get used to it, and it is also not wasting things!
It’s strange to think of how I used to be
And how we used
To be
The past is important yet
Somehow
Irrelevant. Much like
The future.
The time is now
Let’s live
used tin can lying on the side of the road. It once had a purpose. Now it lays there abandoned, no good to anyone. It’s only friend is the wind that blows it from place to place.
i was used by a plastic ankle grinder and found that if I adjusted the monitor to see through the colour spectrum of space and alignment I could see my father waving at me from the old family car as it careens into a tree and bursts into flames.
I’ll never forget the day he told me that he’d been using me. Of course, he didn’t say so in so many words, but he might as well have. That’s what it really came down to, in the end. I think that was the day that I realized that true love is tricky. Because you can’t know how it feels beforehand, you can mistake all sorts of things for it.
He used to walk up those steps every day. Something so small that he took for granted before. Now, they seemed impassable, like an everest sitting in his own house. He could only stare up at them and after but a moment, ring the bell for his attendant.
He used me. and never even stopped to think twice about it. I cared so much about someone that threw me away like a tissue. and ill never forget him. as hard as I try.
She was used
He was abused
I was confused and couldn’t let either of them go.
My toy skeleton and princesses all rolled together.
Stuffed in the back of the closet.
Forgotten,
lost,
and of no use.
After it, I just felt used. I knew that we had agreed to it and that it had been as much my idea as his, but I left his home that day feeling like less of myself.
I once felt quite used in this life. However, now that I’ve found that which appreciates me, I’m no longer used, but appreciated. It’s amazing thing – use.
Some people use other people. I have been used in my life. I was used to carry a baby. And then that baby was taken from me. That seems to be the definition of the word to me. I miss my baby. No one should ever be used the way i was.
Gebraucht. Das ist ja nur ein gebrauchtes. Na hat der nicht mal das Geld, dass der sich ein neues leisten kann? Das kann ja wohl nicht wahr sein. Nach all den Jahren? Was hat der bloß mit dem ganzen Geld gemacht, was er in diesen Jahren verdient haben müsste? Ich habe es ja schon immer gewusst, dass da etwas nicht ganz rund laufen kann.
You left me lying on the floor, your seed drying on my face. What can I say? There’s no one to blame. I gave myself willingly.
I am used to being used, but not in a useful sense. You are used to being a user, and in the only sense. The one and only sense used here.
Why do my children leave used cups all over the family room? Why? When I have asked them a zillion times to put them away? I like to think they’re seriously not out to get me, but it gets hard to deny it when cups are found all over the family room!
A used tea bag isn’t lightly discarded by the discerning gardener.
used…… there are a lot of things ,,, maybe our most favorite ones which we have used in the past ,,, maybe a year back or a few years back,,,,,, the things that we thought we will never part with, but is now of no value or dearness to us… if we just make a collection of these dear ‘used’ things then we might get a bundle of it….. maybe even much,much more than we can ever imagine……………..
“Get up.”
She struggled to her feet, wiping the blood from her forehead and the tears from her eyes.
“What the fuck do you want now?”
“We’re not done working yet. Push-ups. Do them.”
He used me. There’s nothing much more to say. I see him leave with her, and I know he’s lied, I know I’ve been a beautiful body for him to hold and nothing more. This is unfair, but it’s life, and it’s mine.
I don’t know how to tell you this, but I no longer have a use for you. I think I would rather get on a train and travel to the south side than have to see your face again.
I never liked used things. Maybe it’s because I grew up in a refugee household, where almost everything we owned was from Goodwill. Or maybe it’s because I had so many brothers, so everything I had was a hand me down. I like things, shiny and new.
He told me he loved me. then he forced me into something i didn’t want to do. He used me and left me. I feel so dirty now.
allowing the tool in front of me to be used to its fullest extent and trying not to abandon the sight that i have been given for its a gift to precious to forfeit yet to heavy to carry
Used socks
lie on the bedroom floor,
looking up at me
with threads hanging out,
reaching for the air,
they can’t breathe.
They’re worms inching
for distance,
wanting
to be formed,
to be moved
and walked
and taken places.
to be lived.
used is a crude word, a moist word, a shining mildewed damp word. Used is my last word, my last week with my last date.
feeling used
i gave up
after i had enough
of what could
might have been
what some call sin
but a call from my heart
is what drove it apart
Something that is used has memories in it, it has meaning. It has been somewhere. It has stories unlike any person, or anything that is new. It is something that everyone should appreadicate and take time to look at, and learn from.
it is devastating to feel like some one you care about used you sad upset depressed feel like you can never trust anyone ever again close minded don’t trust issues, back stabbing, people can be so cruel, some times it is difficult to forgive
I’m certainly no saint, but I’m not someone who uses people. I just make questionable decisions on occasion.
She looked at me like I was a used Kleenex. I was yesterday’s sloppy clean up. Or the snot hanging out of a child’s nose.
sometimes i feel used not gunna lie… my friends…i do so much for them sometimes i feel like they dont see it dont realize it and def dont see when i need the help…him…sex? possibly..i know of many who have… it is what it is tho… move on with my life with a smile.
Wasn’t that how humans worked? They only seek what will provide for them ….no one will speak to you unless you’re providing something; a merit; a feeling; devotion; words; food; shelter; life; etc. My mind felt so old, aged, and restrained….I’m so tired of the inert words…the dying appreciation….the countless let downs…..you all go on living like you understand each other, when in fact, no one does. No one is real anymore.
He promised he’d quit smoking. I only made the deal because I thought he never would. But I guess two weeks without lighting up was good enough for him to hold me to my promise. I didn’t like it. Maybe it hurt but not too bad. It didn’t feel warm like he said. It didn’t feel like anything. Except, it felt like I was getting the worse end of the deal.
small and yellow, the cupboard held everything old and rusty that she threw into it: nails and nail polish, fingertip memories and bibs. It wouldn’t fit a body, though…those she kept decaying in her heart.
I’m tired.
I feel fine, though.
I had a good time with you all.
You’re my friends.
And you make me feel a little less alone.
You are my friends.
Right?
tears run down my face,
this happens to me everytime
it happens to me a lot.
I hate it.
so please, make me a promise
you.
I want you to make a promise to me.
I want you to promise to never use me
I hate being used.
Being used isn’t something anyone could brag about. It has the potential to be the most hurtful feeling anyone has ever felt in their lifetime. Thinking someone has good intentions and finding out they’re lies is horrible. Being used and feeling used, or using someone else should be avoided.
a positive word that can be used in a negative context. also a great band. and good for thrift stores.
To find a use for something that was used is a very thrifty thing. And it is also fun to do once you get used to it, and it is also not wasting things!
It’s strange to think of how I used to be
And how we used
To be
The past is important yet
Somehow
Irrelevant. Much like
The future.
The time is now
Let’s live
used tin can lying on the side of the road. It once had a purpose. Now it lays there abandoned, no good to anyone. It’s only friend is the wind that blows it from place to place.
i was used by a plastic ankle grinder and found that if I adjusted the monitor to see through the colour spectrum of space and alignment I could see my father waving at me from the old family car as it careens into a tree and bursts into flames.
I’ll never forget the day he told me that he’d been using me. Of course, he didn’t say so in so many words, but he might as well have. That’s what it really came down to, in the end. I think that was the day that I realized that true love is tricky. Because you can’t know how it feels beforehand, you can mistake all sorts of things for it.
Used can be past tense.EX. I used to smoke. BTW that statement isn’t true. GRRR I ran out of time.
He used to walk up those steps every day. Something so small that he took for granted before. Now, they seemed impassable, like an everest sitting in his own house. He could only stare up at them and after but a moment, ring the bell for his attendant.
He used me. and never even stopped to think twice about it. I cared so much about someone that threw me away like a tissue. and ill never forget him. as hard as I try.
She was used
He was abused
I was confused and couldn’t let either of them go.
My toy skeleton and princesses all rolled together.
Stuffed in the back of the closet.
Forgotten,
lost,
and of no use.
After it, I just felt used. I knew that we had agreed to it and that it had been as much my idea as his, but I left his home that day feeling like less of myself.
I once felt quite used in this life. However, now that I’ve found that which appreciates me, I’m no longer used, but appreciated. It’s amazing thing – use.
Some people use other people. I have been used in my life. I was used to carry a baby. And then that baby was taken from me. That seems to be the definition of the word to me. I miss my baby. No one should ever be used the way i was.
used is a rather ambiguous word.