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 sad,
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.
puede que me falte voluntad o que me sobre vicio
lunes, febrero 25, 2008
posted by Diana at 11:54 p.m.
