jueves, 17 de octubre de 2013

I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut my hair.
I hate the way you drive my car, I hate it when you stare.
I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind.
I hate you so much it makes me sick.
It even makes me rhyme.
I hate it.
I hate the way you're always right
I hate it when you lie.
I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry.
I hate it when you're not around and the fact that you didn't call.
But mostly, I hate the way I don't hate you not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

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