Sorry

I think too loud
and too fast
and come to conclusions in this
frantic freight-train way,
and worried,
want to share how my world

has crumbled

because of my flimsy discoveries.
I'll throw them at you
because that's what I do,

hoping a piece of a discursive musing
will stick with you
and remind you
that I, too,
can be beautiful,

but I'll leave with only
your jagged smirks
and quizzical eyes;

your face drowning
in a glaze,
telling me that
I should have saved
myself the trouble.