No shortage of sounds and syllables
that dance together
in a constant chorus
of intonation and inflection.
And then you stop
too short,
you begin again
to speak about what ails you
and what is wrong
with everybody else.
There is no pausing
to think
and to consider what you
really want to say.
What is the truth that should be spoken?
What is real in that moment?
What can be captured by
the impossibility of words?
No, you just keep talking,
filling up space with the sounds
of these letters that when
put together add up to
zero.
When will you learn
that instead of speaking
in a stream of ideas,
in an ocean of random thoughts,
Your silence is more precious.
These words that come
From chaos and strife
are just floating
like bubbles, looking to perch
and then pop.
I can see right through them
and their sounds wash over me.
I am not listening
anymore
to your empty words.
I wish your words
would simply float away.
A Writing Journey 
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