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Hate me for who I am
Clinging to a podium
Fingers in a death grip
Knuckles going white
Jack the Ripper in the front row
Pens tapping boredly
Too good for me
Until that one minute
I become famous
Emptying my stomach
Between magazine pages
Bending backwards
In several ways
Old watches light up
On a weightless wrist
Heavy coughing fits
Again I’m there
Hands crinkling a report
Organs quivering
Beneath their stares
An expectant teacher
Props up his feet
Babble exits the lips
Followed by my lunch
Moments later
Wow, this really capturews, the intesity of stage fright well, your wording is profound in it's simplicity, so clear, & directly to the point like a hammer to a nail!
It made me remember times of being forced to take the stage, & the difference, when I CHOSE to!
I really like your way with words, you're like me, a wear-your-heart-on-your-sleeve-girl-at-heart!
Thanks for sharing, keep writing, k? You have a powerful way of conveying your inner truths!
~Anastazia~