...and thats the problem

I hate the way you talk to me,

and the way I listen.

I hate the way you drive me crazy,

I hate it when you stare.

I hate your dumb black dress shoes

and the way you can read my mind.

I hate you so much it makes me crazy,

it even makes me rhyme.

I hate the way I always know your right,

I hate it when you leave.

I hate it when you make me laugh,

even worse when you make me cry.

I hate it when you're not around,

and the fact that you didn't call.

But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you,

not even close,

not even a little bit,

not even at all.

...and thats the problem.