i hate you,
i hate you,
i hate that you thought to be
real,
i hate your hair is perfect length
to have my fingers ran through it,
i hate that the ink that traces your skin
is more art to me than the gallery's around
the world,
i hate your smile,
i hate the resignation by you will help me not feel
like i'm an inanimate that's begging for your
realisation.
and what hurts the most that,
i don't hate the way your hair is perfect length,
i don't hate your tattoos that are inked over your skin,
i don't hate your smile
i don't hate the way I have to get you to notice me,
But what i do hate is you not loving me the way I love you.
