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domingo, 20 de septiembre de 2009

I hate the way you talk to me,

and the way you cut your hair.

I hate the way you drive the car,

I hate when you stare.

I hate your big dumb combat boots

and the way you read my mind.

I hate you so much it makes me sick,

it even makes me rhyme.

I hate it when you lie.

I hate it when you make me laugh,

even worse when you make me cry.

I hate it when you're not around,

and the fact that you didn't call.

but mostly I hate

the way I don't hate you,

not even close,

not even a little bit,

not even at all.



I'll be watching you...

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