Teivy Chams writes a list of confessions, each one starting with the same wish: "I wish you could understand." The speaker is talking to someone close, perhaps a person who loves them, since one line says they don't love themselves as much as "you" do. What follows is a jumble of quirks and contradictions. They think too much, prefer the moon to the sun, and hate company yet love parties. They look innocent outside but feel a "craving demon" within.
The refrain that closes every section is the heart of it: the speaker wants to be understood, admits it isn't happening, says that's fine, and then reveals why. They don't understand themselves either. That turns the poem from a complaint into something more vulnerable and tired.
The mood is quiet, late-night and lonely, but also oddly calm. The speaker finds peace in writing rather than speaking, and the final stanza ends by pointing at the poem's own last line.