Saturday, July 16, 2011

Hate poetry

I hate you.
No. I don't really.
I hate myself.
No. That's not quite right.
I hate abandonment.
Yeah. That's about right.
I hate the feeling in my stomach
when I make the choices I do
without thinking it through
hanging from a tree
that's me.

There should be a box
marked exit
a steel closet
when it's time to go
no more bills, money,longing,wish of
step right in--

But there's a law against


Everyone should have a choice.

I hate.
I hate.
I hate.

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