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How to hate: One thing my mom never taught me
Written 2007-09-12
I can never hate anyone. No matter how much they hurt me. I’m just made like that.
Hate is not something I have learnt.
I know the words that love requires
And the silences it inevitably acquires
But I’ve never looked hate in the face.
I couldn’t tell if it was standing right in front of me.
I could hate if I wanted to. Maybe I already do. But I don’t know that I’m doing it. Maybe it’s what I’ve done all my life with people who have hurt me.
I’ve dubbed it.
Called it hurt
They’re synonymous, aren’t they?
hate, hurt
I should hate people who
Hurt me
That’s my rule
But I can’t
I haven’t learnt how
to be bitter
to mutter curses
to not be able to face them
but that’s cowardly.
That would be extremely shameful
Why should I hide away
I hate, I hurt
Or they hurt, I hate
Or they hurt because they hate?
I don’t know hate
I can’t recognize it.
I’m naïve
Unaware of
Indifferent to
Gullible
Hate-does it induce hurt?
Hurt-does it induce hate?
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