I hate the way I screw you up
and the way you make me curse.
I hate the way you mess up my yarn.
I hate it that I have to care.
I hate your big dumb loopiness
and the way that I mind when I mess up.
I hate it when you make me scream, even worse when you make me cry.
I hate that I have to make a loop around and worse, when I see it fail.
But mostly I hate that way that I don’t hate you. Not even close, not a little bit. Not even at all.
(This poem brought to you by late night attempts at doing a loop stitch for the first time because of the No Drama Llama. )