Monsters are made from us

I love him,
But I hate him,
People say I made him.
Into the thing he is today,
Just by simply walking away,
No longer will I sit and stay.
This man is not the one I know,
Even if he'll sometimes show,
He will rip out a heart he knows it's low.
To steal that vital piece of life,
And throw it away causing nothing but strife,
Stabbing it over again with that knife.
The knife that comes from I love you,
Whenever he is saying it to me too,
Makes my heart feel just like new.
So why you may ask for my reason,
To hate him as though he commits treason.
Because you see his moods are just like the season:
Winter is harsh like the words he says.
Summer is nice for the touches he'll give.
Spring is wet from the tears I shed.
Fall is him taking away my reason to live.
For now I've found it's not just me,
He always said those little words three,
He said them to her and others I see.
Now tell me my dear is this clear,
I no longer have to feel the fear,
The fear that is him leaving me here.
Because you know who you are,
The one who's given me the scar,
But now I've run much to far.
I love him,
I hate him,
But no I did not make him.
He created himself this way,
Tried to put me on the shelf today,
To wait until he wanted to play.
But no longer I'm done,
Ill be having none,
Of this bs you call fun.
So I love you,
No I hate you,
Maybe I did make you.