I doubt that I'm capable
of love
And I don't think I can
truly hate
In both love & hate
something takes precedence
over your own concerns
As feelings become more contingent
on external things
than internal conditions
I can't get that far
from where I live in my own head
My concerns never seem to reach
much farther than my self
It's not hate
that possesses me
Not love
that compels me
For my life is all
I possess
And it is by this truth
that I am solely owned
So my hate is not quite grown
and my love is of its own
For this truth, I remain
alone
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