Looking back on some old poems
about you.

I really
really really really
really really really really really really really
really hated you at the end.
I hated you more than I hated the next three,
maybe together
– assuming there’s an effective technical way
to collect the hate
and tally it appropriately
which I think would be an amazing study
if done correctly.

I suspect the hate came from the helplessness I felt
because of how desperately I craved you
and knew it wasn’t reciprocated
to the degree I needed it to be.
I knew there was nothing I could do.

And, of course,
it all proved true.
A self-fulfilling prophecy, perhaps,
but destiny is destiny
and we were through
while my hate burnt blue.

The poetry reads bitter now,
acrid.
I hate the animosity in every line
but I wish I could I could generate
that sort of energy on command
were I able to tabulate it
in the theoretical study referred to
above.

Anyhoo,
thinking of you.
Yours,