My hate for you is like a batch of burnt cookies,
black, bitter, and beyond the point of return.
Like a cup of cold coffee,
a hard, unripe pineapple.
When I see you,

my shoes become uncomfortable,

my sweater begins to itch,

and my head starts to ache.
The hatred I feel for you makes my skin crawl and my hair frizz.
I hate you like a smudge in freshly painted nail polish,
like a big ol’ hangnail, ready to be torn off.
My hate for you is like chomping into a delicious turkey and swiss sandwich,

and a giant, thick glob of mayo squirts into your mouth.
I just really don’t like you.