Chatterbox

i was born with a singing diamond 

in my throat

i thought made me valuable

so i talked a lot

and sang from night to noon

but the facets split my words

into prismatic cacophony

that could clear my friends 

from a room

it was the silent years alone

early weeknights

walking downtown for a midnight beer

where i wouldn’t have to shout

over the violently banal haze

of youth atmosphere

before i spoke again

saw it still could ring

and didn’t need permission