I hate that I can’t read at night

Because I’m not reading you to sleep

 

I hate that I’m wearing your old shirt

It looked much better on you

 

I hate that I want to tell you every single thing I know you’d find interesting, funny, or “so us”

Since you couldn’t reach me anymore if you tried

 

I hate seeing your name on mail

Which is not my fault you’ll never see

 

I hate how much I hate you

Because of course that means I’m not out of love

 

I hate that you were everything

Except for when you weren’t

 

I hate that I know better

Than to bark back up that tree

 

I hate that you can’t hear your voice through my writing

Because I think you’d forgive me a little more than you’d want to

 

I hate when I write through your eyes

Knowing the tears you’d cry when I did

 

I hate that I can’t remember

What it felt like to feel you

 

I hate how many times a day I call myself stupid

Something you really made me believe

 

I hate that you lied in every card, during every hug, and throughout every night

You almost killed my voice

 

I hate that I feel helpless

Though I know it’s not the truth

 

I hate that I let you train me

Like the broken animal I was

 

I hate that I can’t cry, and I really hate that I can’t stop

But mostly I hate the thoughts of you

 

Because I don’t hate that I’m not wrong

In every way you used to see