I've got this
hate machine
inside of me.
I built it out of broken dreams
and it runs on what ifs,
could've beens,
would've beens,
and should've beens.
Its fumes
are so poignant.

you fuel it
with your lies
and your smirk
your ******* smirk.
I hate you.
What if you stuck around?
It would have been so good,
it could have been so good.
Who am I kidding,
it should've stayed a dream.