Mind's Mystery

In my mind, I'm quite the flirt.
With thoughts that dance and never hurt,.
But when I speak, my words betray me.
Fumbling lines that sound cliché.

I love the way my mind can weave.
Yet hate the way it can deceive.
For often, thoughts will take their toll.
And wrest away my self-control

I'd like to grasp them, hold them tight,
To own my thoughts both day and night.
So they are mine, and mine alone.
Not wild currents, overblown