Cupid's Shuffle

Just a little something with a little thought that I wanted to write. Could have been a whole lot more, but nobody wants to read a rant. Do enjoy!

I'm tired of being bought.
I’m bought and sold,
Never traded.
Because what I am to people,
Is still debated.
People don’t know if I should be outcast
Because what I meant to them outlasted,
Their application of me.
So I’m just a lingering by product
Of what could have been a good friendship.
An unstable representation of what use to be;
Your heart’s slow painful mutiny.

I represented your future,
What I meant to you was everything,
But now it doesn’t mean anything.
Now I’m just bought and sold,
From person to person,
Never owned,
Never traded.
Just behold the blank slated,
Look at me.
I will never feel what I am,
Because nobody will ever give me a chance.
My own owner doesn’t even trust me.
He casts me like bow,
Turning me into the knife in you back;
The lump in your throat.
Adrenaline in your veins;
That pain when you choke.
I am that solemn person you hold dear,
Yet you disband us when its convenient.
I make your world go round,
I make your head dizzy,
I make you grin,
And squeeze,
And scream,
And fiend,
And fetish,
Burn,
Torture,
Strain,
Bleed,
Fight,
Win,
Lose,
Hot,
Cold,
Hate…
I am what you want me to be,
Never what I am,
Yet you say you want me and push me away;
You replace me.
You replaced me.
I was ready to be whatever I needed to be for you,
Yet you sold me.
Along with your soul,
I was sold.
Not even to the highest bidder;
Anybody offering money,
As if I wasn’t even with it in the beginning.
I was your long childhood friend…
We had plans.
I was your parents best friend and your hero…
You told me.
You wished to be with me until the end of time…
You sold me.
You were hot, cold, hate-
I was Love.
I am not in love,
For I am what you receive when you give Cupid a bow,
Symbolized by an object not an action but a ring.
I am hate, because I am love.
You sold me;
People bought me,
When all you had to do was trade me
With some one else.