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Inasense of hate
So as I sit here sipping tea
Enveloping my senses with scents of incense
And eclectic music.
I can't help but to think of you.
And how you don't think of me anymore.
I know you no longer love me,
You told me so just yesterday.
I've let all my hope fly away into the Geneseo wind.
One thing I can't let go of are the memories.
I hate that I have so many.
And I hate that I loved you for so long.
Or that you said you will always care about me.
What happened to that?
I want to hate you.
That would make everything easy.
But I think we both know that's impossible.
I don't know what to do anymore.
Hell, I don't even know how to end this attempt at a hateful poem.
All I do know is that love really does hurt as the movies tell us.
And speaking of movies.
I really hate them.
I'm assuming that's why I'm so miserable.
They all make life seem perfect.
And I learned through you that life is far from it.
Its all in how your senses absorb it.
Maybe you and I didn't absorb things the same way.
Maybe, just maybe
That's how I got to this point.
This terrible ending to a poem that proves that I could never hate you.
