Hole In My Chest

Theres this hole in my chest,
Getting bigger and bigger with every stolen piece,
take, take, take,
instead of repairing you only caused more damage,
break, break, break,
you walked away,
left me to pick up the shards of a broken heart,
and you know what sucks so bad about it?
Given the chance,
I'd go back to all the b.s. and do it over and over again,
just to be a broke tool you'll drop in the mud,
you have no problem picking up another one and using it too,
till it breaks,
and then somehow you drop that one too.
Use, Use, Use.
What you don't realize is your the tool.
One day you'll meet your maker who'll use you,
then you'll know,
what is like to be broken inside,
hanging by a thread,
and never being able to love,
trust,
be yourself,
again.