not accuse my heart, my wrinkles are filtered voice of devastation verses that I write. Sabina was not mistaken, both of us plenty of reasons. But my inspiration abused just poisons me sigh ...
hate how you speak your driving
hate your haircut
And what comes to feel hate your hideous boots
And I know well
hate when I sleep with you, without you, maybe I hate to
What good is throwing up ... to rhyme you know I hate to think
And
hate me laugh you make me suffer
mourn do I hate being alone so much hate
What you have not even called
But I hate more than not ... you may hate
And even a little I have to try.
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