The Nitty-Gritty Eccentric

I have always been eccentric, and surely always shall be.
Define me brute and selfish, merely inner focused is me.
I do not know that for such a maladay there is a cure,
Perhaps there is or not, but one thing is for sure;
Finding sweet love is the bane of the eccentric, that’s why
To fall in love with another eccentric is therapeutically denied!
There is so much clatter in my head you understand,
That sometimes, that is sometimes why, I silent stand.
I cannot articulate the inarticulate, but you who love my words,
You think I’m unresponsive, uncaring, and unfeeling. Absurd!
It is not that at all, it is simply, purely, simply undefinable.
That is what it is you see, so I cannot define me the indefinable!
I do love you, but I have the rest of my eccentric life to live,
Tis life can be so lonely, yet, not lonely because you don’t give.
Lonely because of the undefinable eccentricity,
Which defines me indefinably, nitty-gritty!
Sometimes my soul aches, not my heart, but my inner, deepest soul.
It’s situated over on the left side of me, beneath my mind, I’m told.
The piercing jab of my ambiguity is often unbearable, yet bearable.
Such is the bane of eccentrics, a conundrum miserably unavoidable.