Hate

Hate. Where it lives? What's for? Surely nothing good can come of that word. And anyhow, for my disgrace, exists. It grows in darkness, in that villan place that no one would like to admit. It takes life, breathe by breathe, word by word, piece by piece. And once you are there, only hate speaks through your lips. That's how I feel now. That's what he makes me feel. And definetly, not just now, this hate has been getting stronger since... always. Everytime I see into his eyes, I can feel the anger coming up, boiling, taking control of who I am. From there, I cannot come back. I just can't. Also, when I see his face, or witness his (million) miserable actions, hate and anger comes to my door. Who is this person I hate so much? Who am I? I don't want to feel like this. I don't want to have these repulsive thoughts. I don't want to have this awful, dark room inside of me, waiting for me to explote. I'm not any of this. This is not how I want my life. And at the end... I'm sad. Part of my heart it's frozen or dead, with all of this hate that I have to him.