Room, With a View

A plethora of thought patterns
are disintegrating my consciousness
can you see the bewilderment in my eyes?

Don't hang just any jacket on me
it may not be my color,
my style, or even be my size.

I do require one thing from you,
it stems from your inner grace;
please wrestle me home, if you will.

I need not, for you to stay
merely lead me to my chamber,
while in this mood, everything seems uphill.

I can survive very well, your memory
for it really isn't that bad;
I can comprehend as well as can endure.

The fact that I own reflections
explain why my "hopes" abound,
and keeps myself from thinking too obscure.

"Precious", is your final nature
where "careful" appears, is mine.
I'm careful because I'm full of care.

With all that I can "muster up"
I've chosen "easy" to theme my journey,
and in my heart of hearts, I know there's room to share.