Please.

Please do not grow liking me, I say.
 I will not be able to stand up to your expectations.
Expectations that confine me and less so define. Cause I am a flying bird, I love to fly. And attachments they are mundane, they stir suffocation, more so distance me further from you.

Let it be. Let me just volunteer to keep and erase the distance all at the same time. I fear fit of convulsions. I fear my hatred. All so  for anyone but you.