And they are as much a part of me,
of someone I could be.
My interactions with others
are all a part of me.

The other part is what I think,
the stuff others do not hear.
The stuff I do not want to say,
when shame and fear are near.

The little things I think,
just maybe some too weird.
May not fit the conversation,
all little things I've feared.

You are not the person
I ought to tell this to.
It's not the time, it's not the place,
I wonder what you'd do.

I fear I will sound dumb,
or that you'll think I'm strange.
And so what is in my head
and what you hear may sometimes change.

You're secrets are not safe, I think,
except left in your mind.
When you put them down on paper,
you can fear someone may find.

No matter what she tells herself,
Chelsea filters too.
Maybe less than others.
Maybe more than you.

Maybe I've learnt to read her,
to understand, predict,
but it's the little things she thinks
that I'll admit do have me licked.

In the middle of a train of thought,
what she thinks I do not know.
First thought in the morning,
last at night to go.

Too trivial to matter,
a reason she won't share,
the random thoughts, the details too,
times I hear them will be rare.

But keep your dreams and privacy,
keep them, share them not.
They're a part I cannot ask for,
and a part you need a lot.