I hate that I feel so distanced from you
and I hate that you're so close
And I hate that I can hold your face in my palm
Yet you're still so out of reach.

And I hate that you're never there
And that you'd never dare
To make the first move.

I hate that I can see you through closed eyelids
And I hate that your scent lingers on washed bedsheets


Forever...


I hate the words that come too late
So that you only hear the clumsy drivel
that you delicately coax from my lips;
What's more is that you prefer it
to the pure poetry that never escapes my head.

...Oh, but I love to entertain
(I've mastered the art of self-deprecation just for you!)

I love that it feels so right
And that it's so completely wrong,

And I hate loving you the way I do

...Almost as much as I love it.

04/09/2007