Description

Intimacy

- By Millicent Haughey

I hate you.

I hate the way your hair falls blindly

I hate your innocence of yourself

I hate the way you hold your wounding in the shadows and don’t speak about it to me

I hate your breath and the bones beneath your flesh

I hate the scent that rises from your skin.

I hate your eyes that pull me in

and

I hate the sudden flashes of power that rush through your body

I hate your malleability

Your gullibility

and the way you turn to putty in my hands

I hate it when you arrive, I hate it when you are here and I hate it when you leave

I hate the way you write, I hate the way you talk, I hate your easy company and the tension in your lips.

I hate the way pain settles in your heart and you say it,

I hate that you hurt all over and I don’t know how to take it away

I hate that I want to.

I hate that my fingers can work the knots from your muscles and that I know the path to your heart.

I hate that you exist at the same time as me, way way too close and endlessly far away.

So go on Fuck right off,

because I hate you

in the most intimate way.