i don't hate you

i just hate

the way you made me smile so much

the way you showed me new things

the way i gave precious things to you

the way that you told me you loved me

the way you called me cute

the way you made me think you were true

the way you kissed away my pains

the way your hair was always perfect

the way you seemed to be worth it

the way you acted just like me

the way your smile changed anything

the way your voice lifted my spirits

the way your happiness made me happy

the way you made me feel like i could fly

the way you became my everything

the way i dove in head first

the way i fell head over heels

the way you made me think you were different

the way you treated me like i was special

the way you made me love you

so you see, i don't hate you

i just hate everything about you...

They say you never have the same love twice
And I find both a relief
and a great sadness
In those words.

But the truth is,
My dear,
You could break my heart
A million times  
In a million little pieces
And I would pick them all up
Just to put them back
Into your hands.

I often wonder
Just how easily do a pianist's fingers conform to their keys?
How do guitar strings feel to the talented in comparison to me?
Why are some more gifted as to how they handle a pencil?
And how can a few fortunate souls control their voice to create perfect sounds?
Why do some possess the wonderful abilities of feeling things better than I can?