They say there are 2 types of people in this world:
those we love and those we hate.
But that closes the gate on so many other options
for so many boys and girls.
The people that we love
come to us in our darkest hour,
even if their affection doesn’t hold the same power.
It engulfs us when we need it,
helps us fly when we just want it,
but waits patiently when we can’t stand it.
They love with a love that is more than love,
and these words ring true no matter who says them.
But the people we love aren’t the same as just friends.
The people we love dig deep;
they play their hand and play for keeps.
Our just friends don’t try as hard when we can’t bare to make a peep.
Just friends can make us laugh.
Just friends sometimes pick us.
Just friends can’t help us kick the feeling of disillusionment,
but we don’t hate them,
because just friends are really good people
with good motives less than evil
and no real knowledge that they’re doing anything “wrong”.
Because with no real obligation,
their curiosity heeds no need for inflation.
The people we tolerate –
even they aren’t the ones we hate.
We deal with them, appeal to their influence,
stay quiet with resonance
heard by the people we love.
Sometimes we avoid, sometimes we shove.
We even reproach before biting our tongues
as they approach, and like birds it’s all sung:
how we feel, irrational thought,
a “shut up!” more often than not.
And yet, we still do not hate any of these people.
What pushes someone to hate?
Abhor?
Despise?
Loathe?
Why can’t be, if not esteem and adore,
just let it go with indifference?
We can’t all jump that tall




tall
fence.
True, many people we ignore –
unlocked, yet a closed door –
and true, hatred may stem from agitation
when two people can’t live their lives
without removing themselves from situations
“unpleasant”.
The people we hate are like re-gifted presents:
we expect what’s under the surface from past experience,
but still get rowdy as if we expect more.
The people we love and the people we hate
don’t cover the grey we drive by on the interstate,
and yet we still debate the pros and cons
of bitter resentment.
But there is one more category not yet testified for:
those we are indifferent for.
The darkest of all walls
painted with pure nothingness.
To have no emotions at all for a soul –
bare bones uncared for, and even less.
It’s as if to say, “Hey,
you could rot away before my eyes
and I’d rather watch paint dry.
You can try and try as hard as you’d like,
but I won’t fight for or against,
because you lost me forever…
after having possessed my best.”
Indifference is so painful
to bear witness to and feel.
A door like that is sealed forever,
or at least for many years.
Sometimes I wonder if it will open; most times I can’t bring myself to care.
The people I love are very special,
and the people I hate have their own potential.
But the people I don’t give a damn about…
I don’t have anything to say about them.