I Hate You

not the kind that blooms in

bright red letters

but a shadow lodged

at the base of my throat

a knot

that only ever tightens

weaving itself through

my breath

a sickness i’d rather die

from than let anyone

notice.

you’re a misery

you know

always folding in on

yourself. shoulders caving

eyes calcified

a fortress built to deflect

kindness

because kindness

is a trap and

everyone is always

out to get you.

i hate you because i understand

your misery

your tantrums and

conspiracies

the lies as smooth

as silk

a foreign language

only we speak

and we speak it well

don’t we?

i hate you for

the silent way you destroy

yourself. not with explosions

but with slow intentional

burns

you light a match and

watch the smoke

fill the room

then call the fire someone else’s

it’s never ours is it?

i hate the masks you wear

shifting to whatever shape

the room suggests

your shine is blinding

a brilliance they can’t resist

and they cheer

they always cheer

for the illusion you create.

i hate you for your ease

the way you carve the world

so effortlessly

you make it look

hard earned

but we both know it isn’t

we both know

how easily it has always

come.

and your tenderness

your revolting tenderness

the way you make people feel

so seen and whole

the center

of your universe

it’s a lie

though

it always is

you never mean it

we never do.

i hate you for all of it

for being like me

for being better than me

we are mirrors and i hate it

i hate myself in you.