Don’t wanna hear your stupid excuse.

I know the truth,

And I hate it.

Too forgiving,

But dead as your muse.

I’m sorry, it’s okay,

But really,

It’s not, and I hate it.


No longer your North Star.

I have died away into the darkness,

And I hate it.


In a drink at the bar.

I hide it well,

But I hate it.

Swallowing my pain in the burning sensation deep in my heart,

Beating to the cracks of fire

As it melts the ball of tension in my stomach.


Unless you wish to find me.

I know you will,

And I hate it.

The cloak I bear across my back

Cannot turn away from you.


In a place only you can see.

In the darkest corner,

You will find me.

I hate it, but maybe I don’t.

I am a story,

That only you can read,

And I hate it.

Wish I could burn the pages,

But you calm the rages.

Maybe I hate that too,

Being an open book to you,

Where you can read between the lines.

I hate how you do that.

But even so,

I’d read between the lines any time.

And I’d love that.


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