growing wings | Completed

27. it's only nine

      footsteps thudding against the cold pavement,

boots crunching the corpses of leaves.

      winter air and frigid hands clasped together,

hollow breathing and rosy cheeks.

      i hate the cold, i hate the warmth,

i hate everything, i hate everyone.

      i hate love, i hate hate,

i hate the good, i hate the bad.

       i hate the mirror, i hate the lake,

i hate the boy that looks into the lake, i hate the boy that looks back at me.

       i hate this bitter weather, i hate the sad sun,

i hate the cowardly moon, i hate this lack of warmth.

       rubbing my hands together, i approach the familiar driveway,

something begins to tug at my heart, and a lump forms in my throat.

      perhaps words have begun to regurgitate into their ugly form,

and perhaps my tongue will curl up to form them and break my dam.

       it's only nine, and the moon is in all its vile glory of gutlessness,

and dark chocolate coats my tongue, its bitter sweetness swirling into my elation.

      it's only nine, and yet i stand at the door, hesitating to open it,

in fear of my canvas turning a dark shade of blue.

      perhaps he wouldn't be in.

but that's just wishful thinking. 

      i hate the sweet, i hate the sour,

i hate her curls, yet i love to devour

  h e r   b e a u t y.

     i hate this silver metal hung loosely on my wrist,

but gold would've been a better choice.

     i hate the wet, i hate the dry,

i hate the desert, i hate the snow.

    i hate the world, i hate the people in it.

i hate the eyes of pitying men, i hate the swollen lips of cursed lovers.

     yet, my heart, somehow, throbs with hurt,

and care begins to sap my strength like thick syrup.

     love oozes from every inch of my being,

and hate is nothing but a word i replace with love.

- it's only nine