Say Something

I talk too much.

Words spill out of my head

Out of my mouth

They rush by too fast to understand.

Sometimes I talk with big words, fancy words

Other times I sound like a toddler,

Stumbling over sentences like cracks in the sidewalk

I say everything.

I talk and I talk and I talk

And I never stop.

The words keep flowing.

But the words I say mean nothing.

Like me, they float from place to place

Flit inside heads before moving on

To better things.

I talk of the mundane,

I talk of the meaningless

I talk of the cursory curses of everyday life.

But I write...

I write the fantastic.

The magic.

The jumping-off-a-cliff-adrenaline-high feeling.

I write what I cannot say,

because while I talk and talk,

There are words that lodge in my throat,

Choking me,

And yet those are the words

that most need to be said.

I need a way to pry them out

To Heimlich-manuever my head

So that the stuck bits fly out of me

Like birds.

Because when I speak, when I talk

I can go on for hours,

and yet

I'm saying nothing.

When I write,

it reminds me

that it's time

to Say Something.