Oh how badly I want to speak. 

To talk, to ramble, to stumble, 

And ponder. 

I’m not as honest as I want to be. 

I care too much of their feelings, 

Holding myself back 

From honesty to appease 

Sensitivities of confrontations. 

Nearly all I intend to say

Is watered down and drowned

So as not to intimidate 

From direct plainness. 

I’m not as nice as I seem to be.