Nothing Yet Everything

“It’s not that serious.  No reason for you to be mad,” a voice tells me.
“I’m not mad,” I say as I look at the person expressively.
“Well, you look like you are to me.”
“I’m not.  I’m thinking.”
“About what?” the voice asks.  I answer, “Nothing.”
I don’t know you, so why are you trying to get into my head? I wonder.
Every day, my mind wanders.
Every day, there is something for me to ponder.
But does that mean I have to let strangers into my psych?
Does that mean I have to let my thoughts fly out of my mouth like a soaring kite?

I think of the things that matter most to me.
I think of the things that I want to be.
I think of what I should have been.
I think of the things I feel from within.
My mind is always filled with thoughts.
I do let people in.  I just do let them know certain parts.
I only tell people what I want them to know.
Most of the time I just want people to leave me alone and let my thoughts flow.
So, what do I think about?  Nothing…
yet everything.

“What are you doing?”
A text pops up on my phone’s display screen.  I text back.  “Thinking.”
“About what?” the person texts back.  I reply, “Nothing.”
Why do they always have to ask me that question?
“Why aren’t you writing?”
Who says I’m not?  Do I have to let people know all of my actions?
Why do they have to know what I’m thinking?
Am I supposed to ask their permission before contemplating?
So what do my thoughts surround?  Nothing…
yet everything.

My thoughts are my own.
Only on the walls of my mind are they shown.
Private is what they are.
If I want you to know them, wait until I will tear down my mental wall and raise the bar…
so you can come in and explore…
the mental recesses of my mind.
So, until then, will you be kind…
enough to leave me alone, and think about what I tell you I’m thinking about.  Out loud, I say, “Nothing.”
In my head I say, Yet everything.