Irresistable I hate you. I hate that you make me laugh, that you make me stutter and act like a total idiot. I hate how you outsmart me, I hate your witty humour, and damnit why must you be so clever. And when you plan your next move, I despise that mischeivous twinkle in your enchancing ice eyes, and the way you smile, my world stops to stare and stops to listen to your breathy laugh that echoes these brick walls. It absolutely disgusts me. You're your own type of different that lights up the room you walk in. It makes you tolerable, to say the least. And how your voice escalates when you get excited and draw everyone's attention to yourself. I guess that's kinda cute. Your name to me is a bitter sugarplum; an addiction. But I don't mind. When someone praises you, I notice your tiny smile and blush. Your awkwardness and intelligence, but comfortable in your own soft skin. It makes you…you! I like that. I like you. No, I don't. I hate you. I love you. I hate that I love you. _______ ~ C. Gallagher