What do you think?

Confusion, anxiety, uncertainty,

inability to be open and to understand myself...

Sometimes I don't know what I think

because there are too many thoughts speaking at once.

Sometimes they are in flow,

but none of them stands out and

after I think them they vanish like dreams

in the morning a minute after I wake up.

And then again, sometimes,

frankly, my thoughts are mine alone

and not there to be shared

outside from that crusty, dusty, rusty door.

Many tried to open that door, including me.

Their finger prints are splattered all over it in chaos,

The dust that covers it has turned to mud,

The rust that scars it infected many a hand.

Behind it my thoughts are deep ,

My memories shallow ,

My intellect curios and hyperactive ,

My Ego fragile, attached and rigid...

I cover myself, cause I feel too much

Yet somehow... I don't feel enough.

So when you come close

and try to inspect me,

you can see the problem

With asking me what I think.