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 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 any at all.
- Tuesday, June 19, 2007
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