be quiet

I think back
on the phone calls, the late night
visits,
the shrink,
the father or son
on the phone, old friends
and new friends
at the mercy of my tongue.
giving them
the details of my life,
the strife,
the pain, the agony of it all.
not seeking sympathy, but
just venting.
at times I wished i'd
never said a word,
for they too have their
own catastrophes
and issues that can't be
solved with hugs and talks,
books, and tears.
so you stop, and like smoke
From a dead fire you
let it all blow away
in a gentle wind.