Hate

 

I hope that you hate me

That any mere mention of me churns your stomach and raises your blood pressure

That any story you used to tell that somehow involves me is no longer uttered

I hope that you hate me

That anything that reminds you of me has been trashed, or hidden away

That when your future children ask about the great love of your life, my name won’t come to mind

I hope that you hate me

And I hope that you hate me well

So well that you avoid my side of town

So well that you no longer eat at the places I took you to

So well that when you touch yourself, you no longer think of me

I hope that you hate me

I hope that you hate me enough to absolve yourself of any blame

I hope that you hate me so completely, so deeply that you can believe whatever you tell yourself to convince yourself that you don’t love me

I hope that you hate me enough to no longer be hurt

Let that hatred heal your wounds, and your heart

But, be careful; hatred has a way of turning inward

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