as children we are taught to love, not to hate.
for years, hate was a bad word, and i really stuck with that trait.
slowly as i grew older, i gave out all my love, and sealed all my hate, even though it was always a mistake.
i kept it all buried, for i always felt in a hurry, to love.
when i met you, i didn't know what it would become, but you slowly wrapped yourself around my loving little thumb.
we grew together like flowers, our roots and stems weaving through one another by the hour.
for a while it seemed like magic, but all magic hides something tragic.
eventually you made me feel numb, constricted from the life i have been gifted.
everything became twisted,
no matter how much my stomach churned.
you were the fire and i was the wood,
but you were always the one that somehow got burned.
