I am sick of trying to sound beautiful. <br />Transform my thoughts, flowing and musing together inside my head turn into something beautiful sprawled out on a page. <br />I think I'm going to try writing words just as I say them. <br />Raw and untouched, exactly as I am. <br />I am tired of chipping away my granite statue in all its imperfection and magesty. I don't want to look back at my painting and grab the brush, hastily bloching out all the ugly parts. <br />Everything and everyone wants to fit you into their idea of just right. <br />They all want to make you ' beautiful' <br />And fit you into their box. <br />They really do. <br />I do. <br />But I am done. <br />And now my thoughts unravel, spinning and throbbing, making their way in black down a page of white.<br /><br />Rita Shay<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/there-is-no-poem-to-this-poem/
