There is a fine line between love and hate and I am dancing on that line. Knowing it matters not which side I fall into, for both sides are equally consuming.




I measure both in tears I have cried and in how much jealousy I have felt. In how far it has driven me into despair and self-loathing; where I become useless and feeble.

I walk on this line, knowing I can neither experience the ecstasy that love held; nor truly be devoured by hatred. I wish to be drawn back to love or pushed over the edge to hate; for this thin, thin line is hurting my feet.



There is a fine line between love and hate and I am dancing on that line. I am unstable but glued, I am without choice yet hesitating.



There is a fine line between love and hate.
A line that will never expand.