Serial
I love-hate you, hate-love you
for abstract ecstasies within paper's lines;
bleeding words sculpted from temper's hands;
or dark monsters of languages' realms
Or, my expired packs of writer's palette:
broken pens that weave once enchanting tales;
once sweetened mocha of addiction
Yet,
you are always welcoming in your paradoxic realm
be it a "me" in -
the playground of punctuations' free rides;
free verses' swings of unspoken melodies;
ramblings of philosophical nonsense (to the point there is no argument)
or bittersweet crisps in tales of complicated love
I love-hate you, hate-love you
love-hate-hate-love-love-hate you
love you like a fresh dew basking in the sun
until then.
Author notes
I will be writing poems about the relationship between writing and writing spaces, and would gratefully appreciate it if you have any critiques/insights to this topic. 
Thank you and hope you all have an amazing holiday!
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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this is amazing...at some point i felt as if i was in a very vast meadow...and i love the duality of love and hate,after all we realize they are one,not opposites,not extremes,but one.
and the image of love like a fresh dew basking in the sun ! wow !
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You carry off the role of the tortured artist and writer so well. However my comment would be that despite the antagonism of a writer hating their own craft, it is only through words they are close to capable of demonstrating it to others.
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