I hate this time,
and I hate this pressure.
I hate not knowing where I stand.
I hate the fact that every day is the same,
I hate not beeing able to express myself,
I hate to be disappointed,
I hate when people disappoint me.
I hate this place,
I hate winter,
I hate when I must smile even when I need to cry.
I hate that you don't understand, that sometimes, a hug, can do miracles,
I hate the way you look at me like that.
I hate the way you look at her.
I hate the fact I hate so much.
I hate loving you.