I hate it when you say you’ll call right back and you call hours later

I hate your text messaging inquiring style

Denoting politically correct interest and no feeling at all

I hate it that you know just what to say but not quite feel it

I hate the way you spin me around when we both know the feeling is counterfeit

I hate it that you know me well enough to manipulate me

I hate it that I know myself well enough to let you think it works

I hate your partial truths that you dare me to call lies

When we are all so good with words and I know that lies by omission stand up in court

I hate this game that is not really a game

I hate it that I am weak I hate it that you are just the same

And I cannot stop loving you and you cannot stop needing me

Sole actor sole spectator, one drama to fit us both

I hate it that you will read this poem and turn it against me

When I only wrote it to feel better

After one more day you were too busy to call

After you said you’ll call but forgot to

After meaningless questions in sms mode

After I have told you in vane I missed you so much.

I hate it that you are there and I am here

And this is a meaningless poem

Saying just how sad I am…