This is Not a Soliloquy

This is not a soliloquy,

But you still do not understand me.

This is neither such a speech that truly matters; nor a speech at all,

If you had been listening, this would be so simple to recall.

My point, well, I do not have one at the moment,

And currently, I digress because I am making this sound like I have a fraudulent intent.

I know I sound as a suspect; it is an easy assumption to make,

The thing I have to get across: you? I must partake.

Do not tell the elders, they won’t get its meaning,

Without contradicting you, or seeming.

I have passion reserved in my heart, locked tight,

You have the key to unlock it and make this right.

This is not a love poem, a nasty bullet made from guilt, nor a soliloquy.

This is the raw truth, somewhat riddling and difficult, for my want of you and me.