Your OTP will never become cannon

You’re always indoors, never tannin’.

As your social status drops,

Your obsession’s nonstop,

And to sleep you start taking melatonin.

Your friends start to dwindle as you die of the feels,

Who needs company when you’ve got ice cream from beals?

This poem’s very sad but true,

The truth of the matter, we already knew.

A fan girl knows she’s getting worse

As she reads fanfics oh so perverse.

To get her out it would take nothing less than a cyclone,

And know you know the fan girl’s curse

To always be forever alone.

((poem's not mine, credits to whoever made it))