Words won’t ever fully get at what I’m getting at here:
a casually-tossed opinion mistaken for judgment,
an observation interpreted as vanity,
a spectacular theory on the whole of life,
never to be quite understood.
But the pictures in my brain are nothing like
the words I spew in half-assed explanation.
You don’t get me;
that doesn’t mean that I’m special.
I am like you are like he is like she is like they are like we.
Not one of us gets the other,
because our minds are transcendent,
but communication isn't.