How can I even begin to tell you

How overwhelmed I feel

By the erraticism of my own thoughts,

Which fly past my outstretched hand

In a storm of complacent laughter?

This has brought me

To despise my own thoughts

(very much…)

Because others are watching horrified

As I flap my arms to no avail,

And they make sure to steer clear

(of the maniac)

But I just want to assure you—

I am as levelheaded as you are;

I am just not as agile as you are.

My thoughts are getting away from me,

So how can I ever put them into words?

(i would tell you that i can’t,

but it seems i already have!)

I suppose that’s why I write—

To put forth these mercurial thoughts

That are easier to capture

With my pen than with my mouth,

And then take a good look at them.

(at last!)

Don’t feel obligated to listen.

(please don’t…)

It just comforts me knowing that

These thoughts can sit still for once,

And looking at them now, I realize—

They’re actually quite beautiful.