I hate
the way you talk to me,
and the way you cut your hair.
I hate the way you drive
my car.
I hate it when you stare.
I hate your big dumb
combat boots,
and the way you read my mind.
I hate you so much it
makes me sick;
it even makes me rhyme.
I hate it, I hate the way
you're always right.
I hate it when you lie.
...I hate
it when you make me laugh,
even worse when you make me cry.
I hate it when you're
not around,
and the fact that you didn't call.
But mostly I hate the way
I don't hate you.
Not even close, not even
a little bit,
not even at all.