"I hate you because:" A dramatic monologue

This is my shot at a poem... I can't do serious poety, because lines end up being too long and rhyming gets thrown out the window. Sometimes I don't even know what to say, so ". . . " ends up showing up a lot. . . (see?!) Then i end up just going on a bit of a tangent, but refuse to change any of my words because its fucking art. And thats how that shit works. In fact, I'm not even going to go back and put an apostrophe in "thats" because it's how the muses wanted it to be typed. So deal with it.


My Hatred for You is like the Fiery Flames of About 1,000 Matches
. . . or. . . maybe just the sun? Whatever is hotter. Yeah. That's how much.
I hate you because you generally tend to make things difficult.
You make me want to join a cult
and sacrifice you to the spirit of angst-filled, putrid hatred.

I despise you basically because of the simple fact that I know you.
I sense when a sidewalk is hot with your scent
And want to turn the other way.
Frankly because you smell like a douchey, tool bag asshole.
Y no me gusta.

I loathe you when you show your face.
In any room or single space.
Just to say it, I hate everything about you.
Your aura, vibe and you just. . . being. . .  you.

When you cut yourself from someone's life.
Stick to your plan, because when you don't, you look. . .
like an asshole.

When you decide to come around
A big red dragon shows its face in my soul
and wants to eat every morsel of joy that it can find.
In small children, candy, and even Flinstones' Push Pops.

Flinstones' Push Pops were pure joy.
Orange, Grape or Cherry joy.
Frozen treats of unicorn tears and sunshine.
But they melted with the heat of my loathing for you. . . I hope you feel like a guilty douche

Sometimes when I see you, I want to shoot you
with a poison dart.
But then I think,
"Where's the tact in that?"
. . . so I do not.

You smile and laugh and joke n' shit.
But in the midst of traffic
I wish you'd sit.

You be actin' like you got sumthin' to say.
I think I'd bitch slap you
either way;
Clear you throat
Begin to talk
I'll knock you out so hard
You wont be able to walk.

Satan once said
You were his friend.
To which I said
"I give it a few days.
Because generally, Satan, even you will find this person so generally unbearable, foul and hypocritical that even you yourself, Lucifer, will toss him out of the fiery gates of hell because you won't be able to stand it."

Yep. That's what I'd say.
On top of this:

I hate you. . . but I still love you?




Go chase traffic anyway.