My Metamorphosis Into A Misodoctakleidist

And I feel so inadequate again and so so angry at my inability to perform..
Comparisons are forever made. It cannot not exist.

No matter the quality of the music in my head, my sweaty palms will destroy all chances.
Still, there are the fakers who ride on other’s disabilities who don’t suffer this fate but try to hitch a ride on compassion.


The piano has become like a hellhole:
I cannot leave without my pride being smashed;
Thoughts of malign inundate me - I am a most invidious individual

What will happen during my diploma performing exam?

My already meagre ego is drowning
Yet you mustn’t waste breath consoling me
For I know only how to snarl and bite.