Paralysis of the Lips

I wanna send you a text
Because calling wouldn't have been best
For the reason that emotions are all overcrowding me
And I feel nothing else because they got me at capacity
I admit I am all a mess
When I’m suffering from emotional distress
Even if I called you I would have been more of a wreck
Cuz I hold feelings that I can’t digest
Because my heart is throbbing nonstop
And words are holding its place in my throat like it’s a pit stop
And a simple "Hey" I couldn’t even cough up,
So my words act as my cough drop
Temporarily discontinuing these words like the don’t exist
And right now I’m reviewing the list
Knowing if I called you all these words I have to speak will be missed
Somewhere stuck where things go when there is no communication
Lost in in the distance
Wishing....Only if these words were able to go through your hearts entrance
I wanna speak these words and finally make a difference
So I text
Thank god for another form of communication
Because he knew on this day, this night, Deneen would have trouble verbally exchanging
So I took the time to diagnose myself with
Paralysis of the lips
This is when words live on my tongue then settle on the tip
And at the same time I lose all muscle function
When things should just purposely to slip
I’m at a loss of voluntary movement
My own choice to admitting that there is something there
Is held back because I don’t think I can choose the right words to articulate my heart’s content
I don’t want the source of my emotional life to just blurt out and, mess up what is meant.
The words I choose are like cement, my words can form together like adhesive
Bond us together, working as a whole, cohesive
Or harden together to later only have cracks, because I said something that only made you turn away, with no looking back
So I wanna text because for some odd reason I think a message will Stop my heart from experiencing that kind of a rip
I rather skip the crackly voice and
the words, because they will barely making it out from between my lips
But right now I’m the one standing at the edge of the cliff
Wanting at this moment.
I could wish on a four leaf clover
As I look over,
Pulling words out my pocket like they were sitting in a holster
Assembling all my words together in batch
Tying them all together
Hoping I didnt have any other words stashed
Toss them over the cliff and from me they detach
Hoping when they reach the ground
My feelings stay attached
And never hit the ground because they would be saved by your catch