The truth.

I hate the way you talk to me,
and the way you cut your hair.
I hate the way you shine like a star,
I hate it when you start to care.
I hate your big dumb crazy moods,
and the way you read my mind,
I hate you so much it makes me sick,
it even makes me rhyme.
I hate it that you're always right,
I hate it when you lie.
I hate it when you make me laugh,
and even more so when I cry.
I hate it it when you're not around,
and especially when we don't talk.
But mostly, deep inside, I hate how I don't hate you, or anything above,
not even a little bit,
not even close,
not even at all.


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