I hate you.

I hate the way you speak,

Slow and precise,

As if our ears

Have been graced with your words,

With the soft yet shrill sound

Of your voice.

I hate the constant judgement

hidden behind smiles and laughs.

I hate the joking comments you use

To undermine me, to tease me

In a way I can’t get upset about

Without overreacting.

I hate the jealousy

That I know hides behind

Every shallow congratulations

Of my accomplishments.

I hate your giant ego

That you’ve inflated,

Expanded to a size that suffocates

Anyone else in the room.

I hate that you don’t try,

Just coast through life

And laugh at those with ambition,

Still somehow maintaining

Your superiority complex.

I hate that I hate you.

I want to let go,

Release the anger

That clouds my mind

When I think of you.

I want to walk past you one day

And feel no spite, no resentment.

I want to feel nothing

Towards you.

Nothing.