I Hate

I hate the way you look at her

When she walks right past you

I get the back of your polo shirt

She gets the frontal view

I hate the way you gel your hair

With your damn curly Q’s

The way your silky brown locks fall

Makes my heart trip and bruise

I hate your cold swimming pool eyes

And every time you laugh

Your tiny dimples hold your smile

And make my spine collapse

I hate your Burberry cologne

That lingers when you leave

My eyes stay closed with thoughts of you

And makes me weak in the knees

I hate it when you touch my back

When you walk behind me

The way you dance when you’re cooking

And hum while you eat

I hate it when you talk about her

Your love for her you pour

I don’t see how you don’t realize

That I love you more