That cringing feeling inflames your body.

Flushing through you,

all the thoughts come rushing.

oooh why did I say that?

that was so strange.

maybe she took offense

I hope it didn’t come off that way.

they can see through me-

to all of my insecurities.

A never-ending litany of worries

boiling

down

to that one basic fear:

They won’t get me.

I’m going to be misunderstood.

My true intentions,

morphed and mutated

by the imprecision of my words.

My brain can’t think on its feet quickly enough

to envelop the expanse of my meaning.

Or, alternatively,

it can’t work patiently enough to mold the billowing thoughts down

to a laser beam point that is

my intention.

Forever lost and floating

inside our heads,

our thoughts become ineffable creatures

only understandable to ourselves.

Sequestered in their

chattering cage of busyness.

Rarely revealing themselves

to the bright, blinding warmth of light

that is

other people

seeing you.