Twenty-eight

I dislike somebody. I never told.
Nor would I tell, or try to imply.
I hate hypocrite, loathe that person
as if whatever this person does
I can't help but to dislike it.
I tried and try and I'm still trying
to be neutral towards this person.

"How could you do this to me?", I used to ask. Being indifferent and ignorant, your choice to deal with our problem. I guess I must have owed you in my previous life, if there's any. And now I'm servicing the debts. Day by day, I believe that it's about to be done, as my hatred and disgust for you is ceasing. And one thing I can't deny, I bad-mouthed you behind my 'OK-looking'. Let's say I'm bad. I dare say you are no good either.

I like somebody. I never told.
Nor would I tell, but I did imply.
I am the hypocrite
for treating him ice-cold
despite the desire deep down
which is eager to see him
everyday that's what I do.
I tried and try and I stop trying
because I do not have the gut

I just don't have the gut
to tell you I hate you
and to tell you I like you.

Once in a while, I want to write this blog, the way I used to write. The way I want to write.