I hate society—
not the word,
but the weight it straps to my back.

I hate judging eyes,
the kind that scan you like price tags
in stores you were never meant to enter.

I hate the whispers,
those secondhand sentences
stitched behind backs
then sweetened with smiles
when you turn around.

I hate the ungrateful—
the ones who drink from your cup
then ask why it wasn’t full enough.

I hate stone-throwers
in glass houses
who forget how loud
their own silence shatters
when truth hits back.

I hate the crowd—
the noise, the pretending,
the push to perform
when all I want
is to exist
in peace.

And sometimes,
I even hate the parts of me
still trying to belong
to a world
I no longer believe in.