Hate I'm mad

I hate you. I hate that I like you. I hate that I'm the only one who likes the other. You have this power over me. A power you didn't even ask for and still just had from the first day.

The ability to take the pain away. The pain and drama from my reality. Being with you was like a dream in which all my pain and problems disappeared, and it was just us. And I truly felt there was an us that day. But it only lasted so long and then it was literally just all in my dreams. Some dreams so nice I never wanted to wake up. Some, so painful I wish I never slept again. And then we talked. And you'd say something nice, or you'd show that you cared and everything would stir up so badly again that I'd end up hating myself for wanting more than what you were able to give me.

And I wasn't strong enough to say a word. Until I had a couple of drinks and was high. And you shut me down. You slammed the door on my nose and I bled. Oh did I bleed until I felt myself faint. And I'd promised myself that I wouldn't let myself bleed like that. Never again I had promised. But I can still taste the iron liquid in the back of my throat every time you're cold or don't notice.

So I hate myself a little more. I hate myself for not being able to be mad at you. I hate myself for not being able to let go of the nothing between us.