Talk

I don’t say much.  Ever.  

This (not talking thing) is not my choice.  I’ve tried to change, but the best I can learn to do is exchange pleasantries and throw out prompts to get the other party to talk.

No one knows what to think of me (they usually come to the conclusion that I am stand-off-ish or snobby or just plain cold).   

Oh, sure, I can join clubs and be on committees and get along OK at work- I can gain people’s respect by being useful & reliable, albeit a very odd & quiet useful & reliable.

My family, my husband, knows that they do not know me, but respect the mental ‘no trespassing’ sign that they all know is there.   
I wish I could be different.  I wish I could conquer quietness.  

Quiet

When I was six years old,
They sent me for a hearing test
Because I didn’t talk much.

Because I didn’t talk much
They thought
I couldn’t hear.

Logical.
I guess.

The sign behind my eyes said, “Private, keep out.”
It’s true, I seldom spoke, 
And I’d never shout.
You see, people think there’s something missin’
When all they see me do is listen.
But just keep talking, girls and boys,
Though I won’t contribute to the noise...

I could hear just fine
When I was six
It wasn’t my ears that needed a fix.
My logic was also as plain as day-
Why babble on when you’ve got little to say?
-------------------------------------------------------------

When I was older
I discovered the key.
The key to getting attention 
Away from me,
Away from me
Being quiet.

I discovered that people love to talk 
About...
Themselves.

The sign behind my eyes still said, “Private, keep out.”
It’s true, I seldom spoke, 
And I’d never shout.
You see, people think there’s something missin’
When all they see me do is listen.
But just keep talking, girls and boys,
Though I won’t contribute to the noise...

I’ll throw out a prompt,
You’ll grab it and go,
And just keep on talking,
And next thing you’ll know
You’ll pause to catch your breath and then
Realize you’ve loosed a thousand words
While I’ve spoken less than 10.
------------------------------------------------------------

While I loath speaking
I love writing.
People who know me only through my writing
Cannot believe I’m quiet
And reserved
In real life.
So I’ve come to believe there are two of me,
One real
One un-real.

The sign behind my eyes says, “Private, keep out.”
It’s true, I seldom speak, 
And I’ll never shout.
You see, people think there’s something missin’
When all they see me do is listen.
But just keep talking, girls and boys,
Though I won’t contribute to the noise...

I’m taking it in, 
And writing it down,
And someday, when I’m no longer around
They’ll find these pages
And set my words free
They’ll publish my stories, my poems and you’ll see
My posthumous work will sell out in a minute,
So....
Just keep on talking, ‘cause you know you’ll be in it!
.