Achilles Heel

I've got a whole lot of words to say

ready and waiting

but they're not pretty, or packaged,

they are crudely lumped up

an awkward jumble

stuck in my throat

stuck in my head

stuck to my pen and not

quite making it to paper

I've spoken of the world to you

of its wonders, its terrors,

even its disgust,

all at length

all at ease

but this?

This is the peanut butter gluing my tongue;

my achilles heel is the very muscle I tenderly tone?

My very words?

Whether it be

you
or the words

I am afraid of, I'm not sure.

Either way,
I'm still left with telling you something you already know.