A girl once told me I talk too much. Well, she told some other people without realizing I was there. She requested I not be asked to speak because my speaking took up too much space. It was the first time I thought of myself in this expansive way.

A woman once told me I am quiet. Invited the fact that I wasn’t saying much and should find a way to say more. I tried expanding conversation topics until I ballooned into something unrecognizable. A jabbering box with a sudden interest in sports.

A man once told me I should talk less because he was exhausted, and I agreed because he was quiet much of the time. The things he did say were boring and the thing that I said were boring to absorb the space. We carried on like this until we were both tired and went to bed.

A boy once told me I was quiet. Well, he told a friend who told a friend who told me. This impression turned me paper, a crumpled up discarded ball. A wasted scrap of notebook with nothing scribbled upon.

I talk too much.
She requested I not be
space.

I am quiet.
find a way to say
something jabbering

with a sudden interest

I should talk less

the things I said absorb
until bed.

I was quiet.
This impression, like a
wasted scrap with nothing