There is a time that I do adore,
Before the meeting and thinly veiled hate.
A twilight of ignorance, I’d describe,
That you can’t recognize until it is too late.
I think that I feel like that about you.
“If I’d only known then…”I’d lie.
I only learn by experiencing.
“I’d have appreciated…” I’d pretend.
I only remember by suffering.
I really do feel like that about you.
Yesterday as I drove the streets of my town,
I felt you all around, in and on.
Everywhere I looked, everything I touched.
Bits of you sprinkled hither and yon.
I don’t want to feel like that about you.
My thoughts are cloudy because of you.
I can barely get these words out of me.
I think you have this affect on others,
Though it’s hard to imagine it’s too this degree.
I can’t help but feel like that about you.
I won’t say I wish you’d never existed.
That’s a level of selfishness I won’t allow.
You have your purpose, I suppose.
Though it’s clearly lost on me right now.
You make me feel like that about you.
Even now the bile rises,
My hands begin to clench and my skin to itch.
I truly despise you, you know.
Pollen, you powdery yellow bitch.