Poem in need of expression

I don’t have my own “word salad”:
My thoughts often get quite jumbled
and forgetting leaves me humbled,
but my soul is quite clear.

I care for people with my heart
and my head runs away at times.
If that is the worst of my crimes
then let me live in peace

If I could clear out hateful words
and live as if my life mattered
instead of this feeling scattered 
I might come to find peace.

Instead I hear her voice shredding
any confident words I share
as I seek to just show I care
I hear: “its word salad”

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