Sometimes I come off
   too strong.
But I pursue
that which I desire.
Your voice, your words
your true disposition
  to speak
that which your mind
has been pondering.
Those who read most revere
Those who can write.
The inability to express oneself excesses oneself through frustration and gestation of the prose which won't come to your fingers no matter how much you know.
Frustration.
  Invalidation.
Wishful thinking upon layers of wistful blinking
Away those thoughts of a 401k and stability
That only bring fourth futility
From the subtle
Dismal
fact of incapability.
Subconscious in my mind
Split between corporations
And affirmations
  Of my soul 
        And my salary.
With freedom of mind comes
  The shackles of physicality. Responsibility.
I was happy with simplicity
I learned to adjust.
yet you.
With your words and your face
Complete complexity
Ruining the simple.                
   So it is.      
Ah **** it.