there is no way to make what i think
sound beautiful
or moving
or to make it flow
so here it is
it is blunt
but it is the truth.
i am trapped.
this is  disease i cannot rid of.
there uncountable, unwanted curves
and two mountains that reside on my chest
that i am ready to rid off.
where there should be a low, raspy voice
is a high pitch voice
that always gives me away.
there are soft merging lines
instead of straight sharp lines.
i am trapped
in my own body.