Nola Hill

A poem by nola hill

I hate having to wait, but I have more patience than you think.
I hate not putting myself first, but your needs matter more than mine.
I hate the word hate because it doesn’t sit right with me.
Never considered that it would be apart of me because it’s not how I want to be seen.
It never feels right when it’s stuck in my head. Yet, I constantly catch myself trying to delete that word out of my head.
I hate that..but there it goes again. It’s the type of thing that creeps up on me.
Truth is, I’m fed up. I know the cause and it’s you.
I hate the power that you
know you have over me.
I hate that helpless feeling of being stuck with you.
Maybe I don’t hate hate, but I just hate you. Okay, I don’t hate you, but I really want to.