I hate you.

Nothing does you justice.
No poem I could ever dream up will ever capture the facets of your strong personality.
I could watch you for a hundred years, and never understand you.
I normally shy away from such cliché poetry, leaving the pure fluffy subjects alone.
I prefer the dark and mysterious poems that leave the mind shocked. The poem that tells all, yet revels nothing.

"To me it all boils down to the revenge factor"

But being human, just a little bit, I have a heart.
It's slightly rotten, and covered in black silken strands, but it's there, beating.
When you smile it doesn't just make my body sing, it lights up the room around you.

"It wasn't till I was older that I started getting popular, I just didn't care"

The quirks of your personality; draw me like a moth to a flame.
I know I will end up burnt, and laying on the floor of life. But I need to feel the heat flaring through my body.
Those times when you casually rest your legs upon mine, not caring if others care.
I often wonder if you judge me, in your head. What hides behind those blue eyes.

"I don't care what she says."

Pain, I asked for it, watching your arm slung around her back.
Minor to everyone, huge to me.
The boy next door, no, but down the street yes.
I have never met anyone that fit the profile I dreamed up that day on the back of a coffee napkin.
Reading over it now, slightly stained, but still legible.

"We might start liking each other, if this keeps up."

Another wasted month of dreams and wishes, another month of nervous bundled up waiting for the dam to break.
Every moment with you, I am struck by your intelligence. One day I will ask you the question that numbs my soul.

Told you it would not do anyone justice....