Six lines, each starting with the same two words: "I hate." The speaker lists what is hurting them, and the list moves from the personal to the relational. It begins with the body and the mind, with diabetes, anger, and medical problems. Then it turns to other people: a family that "teams up" on the speaker, and a mother who doesn't help.
The repetition makes the poem feel raw and unfiltered, like someone getting everything out in one breath. There is no comfort or resolution, just the weight of it. The last line is the most striking. "I hate that noone doesnt help me" is tangled, and read literally, it says everyone helps. Yet the surrounding lines make clear the speaker means the opposite: that no one helps. The slip reads like frustration too big for careful grammar. The mood is lonely, angry, and quietly sad, and it suggests the speaker feels as alone as they are ill.