Philadelphia

I hate you.

I hate you and I hope you fucking die.

If I believed in a god I would pray for him to smite you. Smite you so hard they'd have to use tweezers to collect your body parts.

Every time I see your face it's all I can do to stop myself jamming your nose up into your cranium.

Maybe you don't really deserve it, objectively speaking, but I honestly don't care. The negation of your existence would be a semi-nirvana for my soul...

... and then the moment passes and I can breath. I can accept your continued existence for another day.

I still can't stand you. But the flame dims and your idiocy is forgotten for the day. I have other things to think about and your death is not exactly a priority.

I hate you, this much is true. But what I really despise is the hate you bring out of me and the way it makes me feel.

You make me feel less than human, and for that I will always hate you.