I’m tired of small talks

Why are we so scared of depth?

Of connection?

Of opening up our souls and reaching into another’s?

Why is it that when a group of us gather in a room, all we can manage to talk about is how to cook a chicken?

I’m tired of small talks.

I’m tired of talking about the weather.

I don’t want to know what you had for dinner.

I want to know what it’s like to be you.

I want to know what makes your heart sing.

What your worst nightmares are.

What you really want to do that you’re afraid of.

I want to know what you think about when your head touches the pillow.

I want to know about the last time you cried.

I’m tired of small talks.

I don’t want to know where you bought that dress.

I want to know about the mess inside your head.

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