I Think I hate you Now: A Poem

There was a time when I was ready
I mean I was READY for you.
they could all see that attitude and BS ozzed off of you like stink off a shit cartoon
but I was there.
all that mess on your head,
I wasn’t trying to untangle it
I wasn’t trying to fix it
I was going to keep it.

I see you now from some distance and I can’t tell you apart from the next damaged soul I don’t give a shit about
sometimes you aren’t even visible.
But back then, I saw your ugly and I was okay
I noticed that something was off
Something  was  amiss
like there was maybe a puzzle piece that you put somewhere and couldn’t find
like there was an oil stain that you didn’t have a remedy for on you psyche
like maybe somebody broke you
like maybe you lost somebody

I wasn’t asking questions
I was giving a damn
I wanted what I knew and what I didn’t
I wanted all of it
Maybe I was a little selfish

You knew you were bad
for me,
for basically anyone close enough to shake your hand.
And hate isn’t a word I use strongly
mean I hate coffee but I drink it everyday
I hate my friends but I still remember their birthdays and make them buy me cupcakes
so here’s where I don’t want you to misunderstand
when I say I hate you now,
I think I mean it.

They say that the opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s indifference
and that because I hate you now it means I care.
I do.
If you fell off a building, I might still cry
But I might also take the time to climb to the top of that building with you
and push you myself.
Because I care.
Back then I would have somehow miraculously sprout wings and saved you,
I would have jumped with you.
Over a hyphen sized scar that you might receive on my watch, I would have lost sleep.
But everything else you brought with you, I was going to keep.
I was going to keep you.

I’m not sick.
I didn’t like you because you were broken
look around there’s broken people everywhere.
we’re all like sad pieces of happy memories strung together by bright colors of hope
that maybe someday somebody would choose us
so we can sew the fractures together and make a whole.
We’re so insecure because of our showing sharp edges
and mistakes we drag behind us in the line
That we can’t even tell when we’ve been chosen.

I was choosing you.
Maybe I was a little selfish.