Seldom do I go
Around
Putting words
In order
The way they
Should be

So tell me why
I live by those
Shoulds in
Real life

When words I just
Let them fall
Not giving a
****

Of the order
And then I realize
How *******
Beautiful
They sound
And how it came
Through so *******
Clear

But life
Ha life

I try to control
And do what
The voices
That embedded
From birth
Tell me

Then wonder
Why nothing
I really want
To do ever
Gets done

And why
My face looks
So ******* sad
All the time

Instead of
How I feel
When I read
The words
That I CREATE
Not them
But I

Makes more sense
Now that I'm writing

I am
NOT living
For I

I'm living
For a them

I DONT WANT THAT!!!!!?