i hate how she does her make up around her eyes
a liner away from blacking out her view
i hate how her long hair tangles and falls down
the drapes from which the cat's lives hang onto
i hate how her eyes squint when she glares
the wrinkles guiding to the ocean in her iris
i hate how her eyelashes flutter flirting when she blinks
hummingbird silence- love is her photosynthesis
i hate the wound she'd lay her kisses on my lips with
the crooked half-smile that's cauterizing my own pains
i hate the porcelain that composes her skin
her dead doll eyes that i would sink in
i hate her half-done nails she forgets to color in
that mural isn't the only thing she left unfinished
i hate how her whispers set soundwaves on fire
the white noise from her lips luring me inside her
i hate how her heart left me cast away deep in
a wreck of a metaphor to cover up what i will choose to call "love"
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