I Love You Hate You Love Me

Such a difficult thing,

this balance

between love and hate.

Standing on the edge

of falling into one

or the other,

pushed or pulled

by me or you

and what we say

or what we do,

those petty little things

that burn so hot –

no kiss goodbye,

an unclosed door,

a little dirt on the floor –

brings on a war

so suddenly nuclear.

It’s strange how our love

does not burn as hot

any more.

Today,

because of a shower,

I hate you.

I can’t bear to hear you,

don’t want to see you.

Tonight I will love you,

and you might like me.

It’s how we are.

It’s what we do.