If I speak too quietly,
what I'm saying probably
isn't important anyway.
And when my mood gets a little
shaky, I hope you know
that it's just me.
When I tell you that I'm not interested,
I'm sorry if you're too sensitive
to take my words
just as they are.
Just let me hug you,
or push you away sometimes,
I think you'll live.
My moods will
switch fast
and go hard;
try not to mind.
I'm just a little confused,
and worried,
and euphoric,
and absent-minded,
and distant.
So don't look at me
like I'm an enigma,
because I'm not
as dynamic as you make me out
to be.
And I'm sorry,
but I'm just a little scattered,
and I'll fix it, I promise.