love poem I never wrote

dear,
I hate you

Dear,
I hate you

what.
what is so
divine
so
emotional
about
metaphors.
what
is it that
makes women
so
attracted to
oceans
tears
rain
tones
sunlight
voices
or souls
Those are
not
the only things
that are able
to
flow
from my
body.
So
what.
what
can I
say to
make you
stay
one more
hour.
My
rations
are dry
but I still
have
my
eyesight
and when I
use it
I see
you.
And that
is all of
my
what
that I can
be,
that is the
me
in my
heart,
that I
thought I
never had
until right
this moment
um I
realized
it is
possible,
no longer these
days I
lay in wait
before a
throne that
is not mine
,
it is
yours.

Dear,
I hate you,
So
what.

I would cooperate with something,
but nothing seems appropriate
every way they spin it, it just
seems more fucked than
it was originally,
is it supposed to be like that?