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Bittersweet

by Jamie Lin © 2007

Truth is I hate you more than words can convey.

Here are thoughts dreamt late at night as lights from the fading day

dances across the dusty, blurry ceiling.

I didn't want to say these words as it'd mean I cared.

I hate when I think about you and webs of doubt starts spinning,

clouding my mind toward an uncertain destiny, a never-ending, idealistic fog

I hate how I want your consent for everything I do,

how I need you to tell me, your approval, your concern.

I hate how I feel when you let me down.

I hate who I am when I want you to want me.

How can I fall if it means risking myself to the point of self-butchering, bloody and numbing.

Why would I surrender the humble, earthly ground for puffs of heavenly air.

Why would I undo the caution I have embraced so tightly,

let go of the barriers I built, the rails I grip onto.

Why if it means constantly being afraid of losing and hurting.

Why if it means things I cannot fathom,

"simplicity and sheer happiness, heartfelt wonders, sweet soul prayers,

kissing through noon and dreams piling up to the moon."

What if it means compromise, what if we both drive each other insane,

what if I'm stuck in the past, what if you're missing in the future,

what if I hide my weaknesses and bury it under indifference.

What if it is nothing but lyrics in a song, rhythms in a poem, words in a story.

The truth still is that I hate you more than words can convey.

But this hatred stems from how much I care and as result,

swings back and forth ever so often between sweet tears and bitter wounds.