I don't care that you care not for
me and my mommy cares stare.
I don't. I swear.
Your not caring makes me to care less.
In fact, at this very moment I am loosening
the not's of not caring with DO-not's and
hoarding them like a bear~
it's how I lessen my cares of sharing,
but your teenage flair for
making my heart feel like a steak
that's rare wants me to put you
on the next flight out on Swiss Air,
'cause I SO don't care when you act like a Frigidaire.
Sometimes I think you should
have been raised by an Au Pair. So there.
When you're ready to repair
our affair you know where I live. Upstairs.
And don't try to like caring when you don't either.
Got it? Good.