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
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.
Don’t feel obligated to listen.
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.