Hate

I hate the way you talk to me as though I am a child
And when you say my waist’s too wide, my hair too long and wild
I hate that you can break me down with one well chosen word
I hate it when you laugh at me like what I say’s absurd
I hate when you look right through me as though I am not there
I hate when though I know you don’t, you tell me that you care
I hate it when you’re angry, even more so when you cry
I hate that I can’t help you when the hurt runs deep inside
I hate that it upsets you each time I forget to call,
But despite all this I can’t hate you;
not a lot, not even a little, not even at all.

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