Hate.
The very feeling that occurs when I’m screaming at you on the phone.
The very feeling that emerges when you hang up, voice tired.
The very feeling appears every time I hurt you.
These feelings are self directed. It has nothing to do with you.
No, you—you are something wonderful that I screwed up.
It wasn’t ever supposed to happen.
We were never meant to exist.
We should have never met.
Never loved.
Never fought.
Never cried.
Never found our way back to each other.
I wish I could forget your laughter.
I wish I could forget your voice.
I wish I could forget your eyes and their intensity.
I wish I could forget what my heart knows is love.
We were never meant to wish.
Author notes
More junk from the recently found notebook. 
Comments
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Jess Jess.
this very poem may be my favorite of yours.
i love youdarling, when you put that pen to paper,
magic appears. you're a natural dear.
<33 Roo -
i love this poem.. i know the feeling my dear.. your not alone. i've been there.
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