Love and Hate,
Two distinct emotions.
Yet their differences,
A fine line apart.
It's unnerving how I can hate him,
for the way he makes me feel,
spawning myself to bleed.
And how I hate myself,
for searching him in every crowd
and noticing his every sound.
In the end, what I hate the most is,
How I don't hate him,
Not at all,
Not even at all.
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Author:
athena.walker (
Offline) - Published: November 23rd, 2024 02:11
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 14
- Users favorite of this poem: natashaa
Offline)
Comments1
I smiled. Yes, it’s a fine line and most of us understand it happens like that at times. Enjoyed the read Athena.
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