Art School Interrogative
“Love,” she answered, cigarette in hand. “Love is a cliché.”
I asked her, “Is hate?”
Changed My Mind
Love bangs on my door
Hammers loudly all night long
I release my hate.
Love you? I do,
forever and always.
But I'll never love
the way you hate.
Rewrite My Story
Love, silence me until tears smooth the stone Bitterness etched into the face of Hate.
Love isn't designed to become an antique collectable that is reduced in value by hate.
Love crashed into our lives and I remember saying "When will this disolve into hate?"
Love ends with marriage.
Love starts at first sight and doesn't know that it ends with marriage initiating hate.
Loving you was pleasantly unexpected, though you broke me without remorse, I still don’t hate
Love is a beautiful word, one that you use strictly. So, why loosely say hate?
'Love'. You say you love everything. Americans... she sighed.
You either love or you hate.