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