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But most of all
I hate that you changed.
I hate that you’re the same.
I hate that you left.
I hate how you’ve stayed.
I hate how I cry.
I hate how you make me smile.
I hate how I miss you.
I hate how I feel.
I hate how it hurts.
I hate that it’s my fault.
I hate that it’s yours.
I hate that I can’t be around you.
I hate how I’ve lost you.
I hate how I’ve found out who you really are.
I hate that I can’t tell you any of this.
But most of all,
I hate how I can’t hate you,
Not even a little.
I hate how I still love you.
poem
by
Marybeth Perdomo
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