Hatred. Love.

Two sides of the same damned coin.

Only need to turn it around, but I can't.

The coin spins vertical, sometimes swaying from one side to the other.

But it doesn't stop spinning.

Because I can't decide.

I don't want it to stop spinning.

I want it to stop spinning.

I'm afraid of where it'll drop.

I'm so sick and tired of waiting for when it'll drop.

I hate you.

I love you.

I miss you.

Penned by my hand on the 18th of Mayan, in the year 1011 AF.