Words Fail

The empty line buzzes like an insect.
I'm well aware of what you expect,
but I'm in distress,
frozen in the spotlight of your stare.

I try to speak, butit's not easy;
I'm worse than stupid
with what means most to me.
And I know deep down
I owe you an answer that I'm here to offer,
but every time I open my mouth,
nothing comes out.

Now my head is flailing and words are failing me,
selling me out again.
I don't know where to begin.
I don't know where this will end.

You ask your questions, perfectly justified;
your demands are sensible.
But still, I'm immobilized, perfectly toungue-tied:
I, slave of the brutally rational.

I try to explain, but it's not easy.
I'm less than eloquent with what means most to me.
And I know so well you wait for this answer
that I'd like to offer.

But every time I open my mouth,
nothing comes out.