Compulsive

My head is scrambled
With thoughts
Of love; of life; of work
And many subtle things.
But you my friend
Will not understand.
You think I am a fool,
To tell you all this.
Who doesn’t have thoughts you say?
Well everyone does.
I have a lot of thoughts,
Maybe too many.
I can’t keep hold of them,
I need to speak out.
And you my friend
Don’t have the patience, to listen.
Why would you?
Who am I to you?
Just a random freak, is it?
I am sorry that I have no one but you.
Do you even know?
You never tried to peek inside me, did you?
It’s wrong of me
To even think that you care.
But you, yes you
Will never understand.
And please don’t even try to.