Hate

"I hate the way he’s made me hate, for I don’t hate much at all"

I don’t hate many things

I don’t hate much at all

I don’t hate the boy that hurt me

Who tried to make me small.

But I hate that he can live his life

Stand tall on fortunes that I built

He can do his things despite our strife

Won’t face the law, nor feel no guilt.

I hate that I’d not found the strength

to put him in his place

I should have gone to any length

Not let them drop the case.

I hate that he will find success

post grinding me to dust

Is free enough to lose our mess

It isn’t fair it isn’t just.

I hate the hours locked outside

I hate the bruises on my thighs

I hate the things he’d say to me

when no one was in sight.

I don’t hate many things

I don’t hate much at all

I don’t hate the boy that hurt me

just the way he’d made me fall.

I hate the times he’d call my friends

accuse them of “Stealing” me

Like I was produce, he couldn’t lend

I hate I wasn’t free.

I hate the way he gets to stand

on stages and art shows too

While I still flinch at a lover’s hand

I wish it weren’t true.

I hate the fact his life goes on

like I was never there

I live with the hurt that he’d done

and the way he’ll never care.

I hate the way he’s made me hate

For I don’t hate much at all

I’m so scared I’ll hold the weight

if another girl might fall.