I Hate…

I hate indie kids,

With their floppy hair and a single pierced ear.

I hate the Artic Monkeys.

I hate the memories.

I hate I can never tell you.

We talked every day, now we have been silent for months.

I hate the lies you fed me.

I hate the guilt you gave me.

I hate the drunk words you told me when no one else was watching.

I hate how no one would believe me.

… How unkind you were.

I hate your snoring like Chinese water torture.

I hate how you could never understand how I can feel lonely in a room full of bodies.

I hate how you pushed me.

I hate how you pushed me.

I hate how you pushed me in so many more ways than one.

I hate how I was known as “The Girlfriend”.

I hate that I was nothing to you.

With.

You.

I hate that I “coped”, clinging to the last thread that held my mind together.

I hate that you ruined my favourite bands.

I hate how I was ignored by your friends.

I hate how every problem was belittled like a speck of dust on a sad hanging chandelier.

I hate that you chose her over me.

I hate what we were.

Can we be something now?