The Chatterbox

She’s a chatterbox,

firing rounds

of verbs and nouns

before I can

comprehend.

Words

beyond

words,

flowing, flying, flashing

from those lips.

I try to speak

but can’t hear

my own voice;

that chatterbox

takes over,

and I’m left

muttering, mumbling, murmuring

All my thoughts

which barely get past

the onslaught

that is her voice.

But she talks

and talks,

even when

I’m far behind

trying to comprehend

every word I can catch.

And with every word she speaks,

I still can’t understand.

So many words

Coming my way

So many words.

fighting its way

into my psyche

Yet, a realization

comes to me;

she has

little to say

with all the words

she unleashes every day

And I realize

with all that talk

from this walking, talking

chatterbox,

not much is said.

Not much is known...

just how quiet

She really is.