I've learn to abhor many things such as The taste of salty, **** tears on my tongue, The aroma of the dewy, crisp forest floor, The vision of blue eyes intertwined with bliss dancing away, The feel of a burning hot neck being pressed on by a gelid nose The sound of a drowsy midnight voice whispering "I love you." But it seems that what I've come to execrate Are the same as what I was once learning to grow fond of.