Still
I hate that you looked
Into my eyes and saw so much.
I hate that you never
Stood up for yourself.
I hate that I felt
So warm with just one touch.
I hate that you were
The first to think I was lovely.
I hate that
Mistletoe,
French fries,
Those songs,
And friendly brown eyes
All remind me of you.
I hate remembering
What we don't have.
I hate giving a hug
Just to find that
You're not there.
I hate it when
You don't tell a joke,
But I still laugh.
I hate that I never forgot
The feel of your soft hair.
There's nothing like it.
I hate that I still cry
Because I cannot kiss you.
I hate that you
Are out of my reach.
I hate that I hate myself
For still missing you.
I hate that
I still love you.
|