Pissing in the hatchet

I used to hate you.
Sometimes I still do.
The secrets. The revolution. The diminished responsibility.
The spiraling down into non-existance.


It's not so much you but the traits you stand for.
The way you force your views on others under the pretext of discourse.
Headstrong and opinionated...you always had to have your damn way.
And when you had it, you threw it away,
like a broken porcelain pot that can't ever be restored to its former state.