Scrambled

I can’t seem to get it out.
I want to put it on paper.
I want these thoughts gone.

But the words won’t come
And they stay in my head.
Why do you have these effects?

I don’t do this to you.
At least I don’t think I do.
No that’s what Emilie does.

Wrong again. You talk.
I wish I could talk with you.
But I always feel the fool.

I seem to lose my voice.
The one thing that’s always strong
Even when I am not.

It fails in your presence.
Your naïveté charms me.
You don’t know it all
But who’s to tell you?