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Staring at the World Upside-Down
Nerves stinging with anxiety.
Burning beneath tiny beads of perspiration
forming above my brow.
A million thoughts of tragedy facing
That one of success…
Sitting. Staring at the dots on the page,
Which one will I stumble over?
Which black hole will I sink beneath?
I’m lost in a familiar setting…
(I’ve been here before)
Just never Here, in this very moment,
I know what lies beyond the doors,
I know the routine, the questions,
Their words, critiques, answers;
I know what it is to win and to lose,
Yet I do not know what will become of
this very situation.
So of all the things I do know,
Of them I know nothing in this instance…
Like when I was a child,
Lying in my fathers chair,
With my feet against the headrest,
And my head nestled where feet belong,
Staring at the world upside down,
A mindset in which, unless you remind yourself
of which way is down,
Everything seems right, yet completely wrong.
