All you ever are to me is
hot and cold and weirdly
enough I could never, and
still can’t, ever figure you
out.
I think that’s what I liked
most about you, you silly
boy, yet it’s also something
that I hated the most.
I wonder if you know what
you’re doing to me, and
to my stupid little heart
which you yourself once broke,
yet somehow managed to
put back together again.
Like all the kings horses and
all the kings men.
But I am not some child’s
tale; I am me, and I hate
so very much when you
ignore me the way that you
did today.
If only I could hate you
as much as I wished and
thought I did.
If only you didn’t hug
me at the end of the day,
and maybe I could’ve
gone home hating you.
☪
