Hatred

I hate you. Three strong words that can only mean sin, but I cannot lie to myself. I hate you.

I hate the way you twist everyone's words.
I hate how nothing is ever your fault.
I hate that you never have anything good to say to me.
I hate that you're always looking for flaws.
I hate how much of a hypocrit you are without realizing it.
I hate that you're blind. You see nothing.
I hate your hair, and how it's shorter everyday.
I hate how you think you've helped me in so many ways.
I hate how you're never satisfied.
I hate how all your words sound hateful, but you don't hear it.
I hate how you think you're always right.
I hate how colorless your eyes are, lacking the life we're supposed to see.
I hate that you've never wanted to take the time to know me.
I hate that you're so judgemental of every person you see.
I hate that he knows me better than you do.
I hate that I'll never be good enough to your standards.
I hate how you think I hate myself, when I only hate you.
I hate that I can't stand you.

I hate that I can't tell you anything.
I can't even tell you how much I hate you.

I hate seeing all my friends have these close relationships with their mother's, and feeling full of envy because I don't have a mother to be my friend when I need one.

I hate that I'm supposed to love you.
but I can't.

I can't tell you when I need a hug.
I can't tell you when I need support.
I can't tell you when I feel depressed.
I can't tell you when my heart feels like it's in a cage six sizes too small, writhing to be free. to beat endlessly, without something constantly taking it into their palm and squeezing the life out of me until I can't breathe. I can't see. I can't speak.
I can't tell you.

You don't know how far you've pushed me away.
To the point where I can't take the two steps forward to take the step back to how things should be.

You don't know how I feel.
You don't know when I cry.
You don't know why I hide.
You don't know me.

And I'd be content with never knowing you.