I loathe your smile. It is proof that even the brightest things bear darkness.

I hate your laugh. I hear it everywhere and nowhere.

All at once.

I despise your humor; Light and dark, heavy and soft, cold yet warm.

I detest that I know everything about you yet nothing at all.

I resent that you confuse me. You’re the smartest, yet most ignorant, person I’ve ever met. You refuse to conform to a normalcy that I understand.

I abhor that I don’t know what you’re thinking. I resent even more that I never will.

I will never know your reasons.

Your desires.

Your actions.

Your truths.

You’re the devouring black ink spilling from my feather quill.

Obsecuring my vision.

Leaving me in the dark.

Empty.

Lost.

Drowned.

You kill me with feelings I wish I didn’t know existed.

How odd it is to suffocate on my own oxygen.

To be strangled by the nothingness surrounding you.

To be broken by the lack of your presence and not because of it.

You.

Are.

My.

Oddest.

Weakness.

Never have I loved and hated a soul with the same intensity as yours.

I’d 𝘭𝘦𝘵 you be the death of me. Ironic isn’t it? I’d be the dead one, yet you’d be the one haunting 𝘮𝘦.