i hate how it’s as clear as glass, but not as brittle,
i hate how it’s as soft as a feather, but not as light,
i hate hate how it’s as mild as a dove, but not as true or trusty,
i hate how it’s as persistent as my need to breathe, but not as irresistible,
i hate how fair my love can be, but not so fair that it becomes fickle or bleak.