Conversational Silence

Being stuck for words
Is kind of a conversation killer.
The words are there, alright,
But better suited to paper than tongue.
Passing notes in class is one thing,
But in a restaurant,
Or walking down Henry Street,
Or ashamedly browsing the lingerie section
– Because that happens sometimes –
It gets a little weird,
To say the least.
There are words, unspoken, unheard,
I just don’t know how to say them.
And it’s not like I don’t want to talk.
I just can’t, okay?
Like my lips are stitched together
By heart strings.
I’ll admit that sending notes isn’t ideal,
But for just a little while,
Let me catch me vocabulary.
I promise I have something to say.