Don’t cry. Everything’s gonna be alright.
I hate the way you say this, the way the words tumble out of your mouth like a tsunami,
hate the way that once they’re out they fall, fall, fall down and explode in the air between us
pushing us apart.
I hate the way you cock your head, looking at me as though you know me through and through. As if you have me completely figured out, a puzzle finished long ago and now boxed up and thrown into a closet.
I hate the way you look so expectant, waiting for me to answer you and be ever so grateful that you’re here for me, trying to help. But I hate your trying, your words all only skin deep and barely making a ripple on the surface of your heart.
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