A/N: Written for a contest on allpoetry, which was to have a conversation with your Muse.

---

"I hate you, you know,
and you should know by now.
I'm sure you hate me too-
don't lie! You know it's true."

Stop looking at me like that,
like I'm worth less than trash.
Why should I hide from your eyes
and the stories you devise?

"Is my darling scared of me?
Scared of everything that I see?"
Her eyes speak the challenge implied,
daring me to try and hide.

Scared? Of what? A figment of my mind?
"Yes," she says, "one you can't leave behind."
It's true I can't get rid of you
But it's only time until you're due

"Due? For what?" she laughs and taunts,
Not caring about the one she haunts
"Of course I don't care- I didn't choose you!
I didn't choose your path to pursue!"

Shut up- stop it--
Learn when to quit!
"Now that I'm here, I do what I please
Your feelings, your thoughts- all mine to seize!

"I'm your muse- I do the work.
I translate your feelings into words
. Is it my fault that you feel the most
Whenever your friends have nothing to boast?

"You glory in their misery-
and weave poems from their story
Don't be shy- admit to your pride!
You can write whenever they cried."

"And I cried with them!"
"So you claim!"
"And you are part of my mind-
and you would know if I lied."

She's all smirks, laughter, and sneers
And she screams for all in my head to hear,
"So what if you cried- you merely shed tears
Then had me write about their fears.

"Does that make you a saint?
Full and free from sin and taint?
Darling, I know you- you can't deny
Your greatest works are made when they cry."

"I'm not a good person," I have to admit.
"You're not! You're not!"
She screams with triumph and glee,
"You're not, and you never will be!"

Slowly, regretfully, I looked her in the eye.
"I hate you."
Lovingly, she took her hand in mine.
"I hate you too."

-- "I Hate You"
Essa, 8/09/07

---

A/N: Yeah, well... my muse hates me.