Riptide

British Linguist H. P. Grice proposed the cooperative principle,
outlining four maxims for effective communication.
I bare them in mind as I contemplate the conscientious question, "What is wrong?"

Manner
Pronoun, verb, adjective.
Computing, weighing.
A mind generates vivid memories not natural language strings.
Image to verbal translation postpones communication.
Every ounce of blood I oxygenate-
Memory intoxication, program cannot find file.
Don't detect and dig and burn it at the surface.
"You're always too vague."

Quantity
Because some things...
Some things I fear to say thus leave unsaid.
All of the "why are you crying?"s the "stop doing that"s,
I've learned are best met with a smiling face and naive posture.
It's not you, it's my scar tissue heart.
And those who squeeze me until my ribs snap.
Every thought a loop I retrace daily.
So before the madness can pervade another mind,
I cut growth at the source and regroup in the silence.

Quality
Cannibalized minutiae and collapsed subsections.
I ask you to step in for the truth then lock the atrium doors.
And tell myself to stash the gun for a rainy day. And lose myself at the local maxima.
I saw my vocalization puncture the bliss,
And force a checkmate.
And in short, I was afraid.
So I measure my words in grains of sand and output, "Nothing is wrong, X"

Relevance
"And tell me about Y"
Subverting inquisition to preserve a card house.
For now, I swim parallel to shore.
And sink into dark, sweet dreams.
And grind my teeth in desire.
There has to be another way,
Than living out my existence between two parietal bones.
But for now, I evade the current once more.

1, 2