Talking Poem by Eliana Ford

Ooo man I can talk.
I can talk and talk and talk.
And even when there is nothing left to say,
I find myself talking and talking and talking.
To anyone who will listen,
Talking and talking and talking.
I find myself talking even when those who listen stop listening.
Just talking and talking and talking.
I don't even mind.
If there is air to fill with every word that climbs up out of my mouth,
I will continue to talk and talk and talk.

But the more I talk the more I realize,
That all this talking talking talking is nothing but a mere substitution for my hunger to talk to you.

And if could talk and talk and talk to you for just one more day,

I would sit in silence.

Just be.

For no amount of talking could replace that last moment I never got with you.