from the day i had my hair cut
to today, few nights before christmas
i thought of you and your irritant guts
reminded me of why my skin crawls
of how i could detest a person like you
or i could be lying to myself, and again

i lifted carol off the shelf
hoping to read like i've never read before
shut it tight before i get too far
since then
i've never left the book out of my sights
when its not underneath my head
where i sleep with it
it's laid on the top of the shelf
isolated from every other books
i've ever owned

i hate the thought of you
the sight of you
even the sound of your name