2012, birth of a dove

I hate the way you talk to me, and your messy hair.

I hate the way you drive me nutz. I hate it when you stare.

I hate it when you mock me and laugh as it weren't your fault.

I hate it when you say 'sorry' with no meaning and then as lightning, bolt.

I hate your weired choice of shoes, and the way you always mis-read my mind.

I hate you so much it makes me sick; it always makes me whine.

I hate the way you're always wrong. 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 when you don't reply txt or call.

But mostly I hate myself, for giving abundant chances and not hating you at all.