"I love you!" I'd say.
"I hate you," she'd say.
"I hate that you hate me," I'd say.
"I love that you hate that I hate you," she'd say.
"Make love to me," I'd say.
"I'll fuck you, not make love," she'd say.
"Works for me," I'd say.
"Works for me," she'd say.
I'd say, "It's a thin line--"
"--between love and hate," she'd say.
I died.
"They say you hurt the ones you love the most," she said, staring at my coffin as if her intentions and words had been loving the entire time. "It's a thin line--"
"--between love and hate," I said, rolling my eyes in heaven.
YOU ARE READING
The Lonely Position of Neutral
PoetryBen's throat cancer has returned. Living a lonely life, he found a woman he loves but finds out she's been unfaithful. Ben starts to think the lonely position of neutral isn't that bad. He writes poems and dialogue narratives. Will Ben survive cance...
