dedicated to her.

I hate the way you talk to me and the
way you cut your hair.
I hate the way you drive my car.
I hate it when you stare.
I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way
you read my mind.
I hate you much it makes me sick; it even makes
me rhyme. I hate it, I hate the way you're always right.
I hate it when you lie. I
hate when you make me laugh, even worse when
you make me cry.
I hate it that you're not around, and the
fact that you didn't call. But mostly I hate the way
I don't hate you. Not even close, not even a
little bit, not even at all.