I hate when we fight. I hate it.
All I want to do is make you happy and
I struggle between pushing my feelings aside,
or speaking out about them.
I hate when we fight. I love you.
I cry when you angrily tell me,
“Fine, just go do whatever you want.
Do whatever makes you happy. I don’t care.”
I hate it because the only thing
I can think of that makes me happy,
the only thing I want, is to run into your arms.
To hug you and kiss you, and forget about everything.
I hate when we fight because I can’t do that.
I can’t just curl up in a ball and cuddle with you
forever like I wish we could.
I hate when we fight.