expectations such an Awesome Awful curse others infect you with
don't, yada yada, ya wanna be like Tom, **** and Jane, even Harry, a transgendered friend and fellow (ha) outcast, all with a good job prospects of a goodly tented long life?
so ya write poems to nobody about nothing and you are pleased to be pleasing just yourself
in writing you have nothing to prove, so read them like keepsakes ya like, keep 'em & me hid, in the shoebox under the closeted pile of ***** clothes, special designer outfits concocted so they keep my remains, privatized and unsanitized, my equity, hidden, disguised as disgusting
but for god-sakes don't follow me, unless you want to curse us both with Expectations of Expectations, then comes with illiteracy of Affection
then the literary pre-tension that always follows, leading to
Affectation, the first derivative of the infection of affection
yeah, then comes caring and it instantly it's too late, you're *******, right up the mental heine, lost condemned ruined annihilated crushed subverted crushed into mental death camp suffocation of more, please ma, can I have some more?