Writer's Block's Got Me Tongue-Tied

The words, they're in my soul, you know?

I think I've got them figured out.

But once my pen hits a fresh piece of paper,

My head, it clouds with doubt.

Emotions racing towards my hands, seeking absolution,

Reaching my determined fingertips now face a persecution.

Funny how that's the way I get whenever I see your face.

But my lips instead of my fingertips seem strange and out of place.

I think of clever things to say to see your smile - perfection.

But silence is all I can portray, so afraid of your rejection.

So I'll just keep being what I am to you and live my hidden lie.

Only wishing someday the way I feel would echo in your eyes.