Strutting whores of hate

strike out at the world

       hating themselves for loving you

bubbling mud overflows

and demands to be heard

faltering void beneath feet

       hating themselves for wanting you

deceptive creatures

crawling under skin

a loathsome town

of evil guts

       hating themselves for hungering for you

bottomless crater

scraped walls and

dangling truth

shudder of acerbic

words not seen

or touched but

existing in

malignant eyes

       hating themselves for all you do

nightmares in

beds of hate

flowing blood

down streets

of acrimony

       hating themselves for adoring you

buried deeply

in scarlet bulbs

of hatred

bottomless crater

of death looming

larger than pain

       hating themselves for touching you.

Fling handfuls of hateful hungry maggots

at the funhouse mirror of life

hoping to inflict

              damage

              emptiness

              pain

       and 

they always

bounce back

twice as ravenous

eating your heart first

then your mind 

lastly your soul

rendering you

damaged

empty

riddled with pain

                  while

                  leaving the object of your hatred

                                   untouched.

How do I hate thee; let me count the ways:

I loathe you.

I despise you.

I detest you.

You're like the gum on the bottom of my shoe after a long day.

Like a cancerous spot on the temple of my life.

Like the black tar that slithers its way out of lungs undone by puffing sticks.

You're like a venemous snake, winding its way through my emotions, churning and writhing and hissing.

I hate you with a burning passion that starts at my loins and crawls up through my intestines and then to my chest, finally seeping its way out of my nostrils, to be sneezed into the toilet of life.

Aside from that, I guess you're ok.

I see it spark in your eyes.

It's been ignited and I'm fearful again.

I slap you, snap out of it.

But it only growls and rumbles deeper.

Nothing can hurt me more

than the look on your face.

My heart buries into my chest,

as I hide from the thought of your pain~

within mine, it intwines.

The twisting, knots the walls of my stomach, (tight)

as I crave the embrace of your tiny features.

I move in closer to try and reach you,

but I have lost you to your rage.

I wish you knew....

what breaks you destroys me too.

I wish I could take it away

and hold you like my baby.

I miss you when you go away.

I hate that you can't stay....

~Jessi (image and poem)

An easy emotion

It makes quite a commotion

Burns from the inside out

Makes you scream makes you shout!

First comes ANGER,

Then comes RAGE!

But you better think twice

Before you let HATE from its cage!

Oh! Once it's started well it's hard to

Contain,

HATE once it gets going is like a

hurricane!

I saw HATE once and I tell you what

It was the ugliest sight I ever did saw!

Go tell your friends

Your neighbors too

That it's best not to be hate'n

It's just bad and

I love you!

The opposite of love, not simply hate,

A fact to which many can relate.

Both emotions strongly felt,

Merely two cards in a poker hand dealt.

The ultimate result of a love that's died,

When every bit of feeling does subside.

A heart now filled with disregard,

Promulgating a soul repeatedly scarred.

Once love and hate are equally gone,

It is finally time to really move on.

Hate

Such a strong word

To truly hate something is rare

I used to say I hated this one person

Now I just nearly pity them

For no one seems to like them now.

There was this other person

I couldn't stand her

She was absolutely terrible

But still not deserving

Of the word hatred.

I think I'll know it

When I hate someone

There will be a feeling in my gut

And I'll want to stab them every day

But I won't.

I might even learn all about them

To give me a reason not to hate them

Because what is the purpose of hating

Why can't I just dislike them

Maybe there isn't a purpose.

The other thing is

If someone is being rude

It's true that they aren't doing it for joy

Nobody is that sick

Naturally.

So I don't think you should be so cool

And toss around the word hate

I might sound like a five-year-old

But I'm mature enough to say

Don't give them ammo, keep it in.

Hate is the armpit of the English language.

Hate is a reflection in the mirror as you see your bad self.

Hate chews and feeds on your productivity like too much noise when a little quiet would do.

Hate blocks good or rational thoughts from surfacing due to dark emotion smothering them.

Hate is often confused with acknowledgment of something or someone you just don't need to be around. 

Learn to recognize that Hate is a negative energy.

Hate is a real good liar.

Hate is the lid on a Pandora's box full of all wrong ideas and assumptions.

Hate leads some to revenge. Revenge is the other armpit of the English language.

Hate literally affects your health, in a disease way.

Hate becomes a roach infestation in your clean beautiful home if you don't exterminate it at the sight of the first Hate.

Can't say nothing good about Hate. The prescription for Hate: Forgiveness. A huge pill to swallow that may have to be split up to get it all down, but it works.

You don't have to forget, but you can forgive..freedom from Hate and his cousin, Revenge.

It's a very fine line.

This whole debate about love and hate,

it's an aggregation of the soul.

Your actions, your words, even as a plain dealer -

you make me loathe the spaces I must share with you.

Hate -such a short and harsh word,

but so delicious as it rolls off the tongue.

It permeates the soul, the blood and the air we breathe.

It is evident in every moment spent apart,

in every meal eaten in tested silence,

in the discussions with friends and family.

I wonder that they cannot see it hanging like a shroud over us.

Hatred - a red hat - surely appropriate.

A cap of molten lava anger at the injustice of the situation.

A snood of distaste and devaluation of life.

Red hat - so oft misread as love -but as I said

There is a fine line inked by the tiniest quill in the sand;

the shifting grains of daily life creating a fire of pure poppy red.

Conveyed in the simplest words: 

I love you.

Love is only a day's guest

To deal with momentary pests

But then comes hate a knocking

To send compassion mocking

Filling the cup with hate so fiery

That even a dictator would drop my diary.