I don’t think I could ever be hateful. That would require effort and effort is something I just don’t have.
I give enough effort every morning by thanking God for waking me up.
That’s about all I can do.
The rest of my energy is devoted to not thinking about you. ****.
Well I can always try again tomorrow. I could rewrite this poem every day and the words would never change.

1. I feel hateful
2. I change my mind because I’m too tired
3. I try not to think about you
4. I think about you
5. I say I won’t do it again
6. I write a poem about it

i made myself hate you
so that i could forget you
i made myself hate you
so that i could stop loving you
i made myself hate you
because i knew all along
that there was more bad than good
i made myself hate you
to save me, to save my sanity
to put myself first and foremost
i made myself hate you
so that i could begin to love me

I've said too much, I've lost my head, I've given up
I have nothing left.

The parchment paper rips down your throat.
As you tear your voice down every note,
The word “ihateyou”
**** every song.
A chill in the ear is a bell tones throng.

Believe that somethings wrong, cuz it ******* is! Believe that you're in love, cuz you're a ******* kid!

You cannot hold onto,
Stuffed blankets and pillows,
Live by a matchbook,
Head next to the gallows,
The heat from a sun has now died with the billows.
No air or ox-y-gen is capable resuscitation,
To stoke up this flame from dead coals in this bastion,
Each illusion is frozen by the heat ******* electron.
Division/deviation from a path that I abandon.
The futile, failure, falling to the knees view of a god that I do not cling to.

This songs about existence,
The pain in a distance,
Reminiscent,
Of a horizon,
Built on grandeur and heart omissions.
****** by a necropolis,
Of soul stealing black hole mouths.
Forgotten by its maker,
When the heartless chopped him to the ground,
Fraught with false oaths.

Suburbia disintegrates to ash and leaking gouache.

Bleed out.
Bleed out.
Bleed out.

I ʜᴀᴛᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴡᴀʏ I ᴄᴀɴ sᴛᴏᴘ ʟᴏᴠɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ is by  ᴛᴇʟʟing ᴍʏsᴇʟғ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ʏᴏᴜ

Hours of sub-conscious-ness

Between the fight and now

These days, I always wake

Before the sun

Before you

And remember the fight-

"Well, MAYBE
Ifyouweren'tsuchafuckingbitch
Spoiledbratcunt
Ihateyou
Bitc­h
*****
*****
FuckyouIhateyou"

I look over

Knowing

When you wake, you won't remember

It always takes a while

The sun will make you squint

And you will smile

Because, really-

"Good morning, love!
Iloveyou
Youmeantheworldtome
You'resobeautiful
Kissme,love
­Love
Love
Love
IthinkI'llsleepalittlelonger"

The dog whines at the door

As you try to close your eyes

Feed me, walk me, pet me

I will let him whine

It's the only revenge I have

You finally sigh

"I'll get it, love"

You stand out of bed

And I notice

You have morning wood