I have always run a mile a minute.
My words moving faster than I could ever run.

Thought through or not words flow out of my mouth like water

I haven't been able to shut up for the last 15 years.

The grass, the caterpillars, tired of my talking.

The grasses are screaming.

The cats, the lizards, crawling away swiftly.

The caterpillars turned to butterflies in order to fly away from me.

And here's silence.

I've never heard silence not even in the depths of my mind.

I've always wondered what it's like but
It's a sword in a stone that I will never be able to touch.

I have always run a mile a minute.

My words are like a fire with every sentence oil is doused upon the flame.
I crave the extinguish of silence

And yet in the dark of mind when all of the crows have flown away
Silence is just an idea not yet formed