Don’t Ask

I am the crab of my own persuasion
always moving sideways
when answering any question,
my moods fluctuate with no warning,
while behind my eyes
are secrets I may or may not share.

The shell I occupy is in my head,
don’t ask me to open the door
just wait until the inspiration strikes,
then I’ll gladly let you in,
but look quick
because you never know
what second my attitude will change.

Like an ocean are the currents
creating the waves of my emotions,
they’ll wash in so many directions
waxing and waning in their intensity
until my behavior
seems most like a full moon dementia.

If you can ride the crest of my thought tides
learn to know it is just the whirlpool within
tugging and twisting my spirit
and not the result of your conversation,
what you’ll discover in my quiet cove
where most never are allowed to visit
are the pure waters of insight
we can both swim
before the sharks I sense with my mind’s eye
make me close the beach again.