trampled

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 so much it makes me sick- it even makes me rhyme.
i hate the way you're always right.
i hate it when you lie.
i hate it when you make me laugh- even worse when you make me cry.
i hate it when you're not around.
and the fact 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.