I hate the way you ignore me, and the way you talk to me,
and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick;
it even makes me tired. I hate it, I hate the way you're always right.
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 ask. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you.
Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.
العرض الشجري
