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Poem

I feel I talk too much, incessantly,
Not in a pleasant way, nor necessarily clumsily,
I speak as if revealing my soul,
Showing how uncertain I am, without a protective role.
I talk, unveiling all I am, without essence,
Doing an injustice to myself and those in my presence.
I try to break a wall between my being and theirs,
To unite us, for them to feel what I feel, not just stares.
I speak to make them empathize, not just sympathize,
But it's exhausting, this effort, it drains and defies.
The wall between us remains, painfully aware am I,
That I will never tear it down, no matter how hard I try.
It's a cycle, I talk, the wall stays intact,
I shut down, then miss the connection I never had in fact.
I start speaking again, the snake eats its tail,
But maybe I should whisper, let my voice prevail.
I don't have to break the wall to be heard,
Perhaps people can listen, even beyond the absurd.
The words inside me are many, but I like only a few,
I keep my circle small, not to burden those true.
In the end, I feel I talk too much, it's a fact,
Perhaps I should write poetry, give my words a different act.
The words within, threatening to overflow,
Could turn into charming springs if written, not just a show.
Here I am, for I feel I talk a lot,
Drowning those I love with my overwhelming thought.
I write this because I fear I talk too much,
Trying to break walls and be heard, feeling out of touch.
I've done injustice to you and to me,
Trying to integrate our beings without any mystery.
Now my arms are weary and my soul aches with care,
For I fear I talk too much, without finding solace anywhere.

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