I love you, i hate you

. sometimes it was love,
sometimes it was hate.

I am self-destructive.
I admit. that some things harm me but I,
I just can't stop. the pain, the rush,
the emotions, the rage
it feels good.

I guess, I'm the type of person
who would rather be a bucket of tears,
because everything
to me is better than emptiness
anyways.

sometimes it was love,
it was the "I don't want you
to leave this room just yet" type of
love,the "please hold me for three more minutes"
type of love, it was starting to feel so normal already
your hands, and mine. your lips and mine.
the hours, the atmosphere.

yes, sometimes it was love.
it was the comfortable silence,
between two strangers in a park, each
in their own world, reading their own books
you don't bother me, I don't bother you
go ahead,fill the empty space beside me

(did you ever truly think of me, when
you were with me anyways?)

sometimes it was love,
sometimes I looked into your eyes
and prayed the world would interrupt
the seconds, and simply pause for me
as if I was something special.

and sometimes, sometimes
it was hate. no wait, most times it was hate.

I want you to leave almost as badly
as I want you to stay, but then if you stay
we are going to argue, and its not like
one of us ever wins anyways.

sometimes it was hate,
I'm bored, let me hurt you.
let me question you, where were you?
with who, is this what you're doing behind my
back all the time, but then you're honest, and
you face it that you fail me, and I get upset, but I forgive
you, I forget what you did, and I just hold you

and it hurts me, but flatters you,
then I hurt you, but it hurts me.

See the difference?

sometimes it was love,
sometimes it was hate.

but it was wrong all the time,
from the beginning, till the end.

wrong, in every single way.