Promise me not to wither away,
For you were once the object of my love.
I was smitten at first sight, but you never knew,
You were the one I yearned for secretly.
With familiarity, the magic spell broke,
I realized your vulnerability, your weaknesses.
I stepped back. Perhaps it was a sham.
You ceased to charm me.
With time, I started to loathe you.
Your presence annoyed me.
But when you said,"I wish I were dead",
Something tugged my heart. I froze with fear.
I don't exactly know what holds me unto you,
Is it our affection or the thought of separation ?
In love, maybe, you never loved back.
In hatred, I fancy you are around, hating me back.
Promise me not to wither away,
For I want to be the object of your hatred.
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