Talk

The silence seems fragile and I don't want it to break
Words that used to tumble from my mouth
like so much steam and heat and necessary substance
are now things I have to search for
Talking seems weightless and empty and without meaning
something I do because the quiet is oppressive
to the world out there
All it does is fill the space around us at the table
or between us in the streets
Most of it is just small talk
and it's getting harder for me to find the right things to say
Half the words that filter in tend to ricochet
dull rocks that make my head ache
day after day after day after day
It's become a tiresome thing at best:
listening and being listened to
Silence would be bliss
and to be silent a thousand times better
I think it is too easily shattered
for me to really hope for