sitting alone on
a red linen couch.
the crackling crunch of a
beaming up at me.
the scurrying noise of
a desolate, despairing disposition.
i love it.
i am well acquainted
with this situation,
in a state where all
in a state where i
do not have to provide,
satisfy, or contribute.
i am content.
the floor begins to rumble,
the T.V. starts to rock back and forth
and the red linen couch begins to shudder.
the deep crescendo gradually amplifies its
tempo and dynamics as
the walls start frantically whirling,
the cabinets start to convolute
creating a centrifugal warzone.
the orchestra is in full swing,
sweat dripping off of the conducter's baton
i am standing there.
dozens of indifferent eyes
staring mundanely up at me.
how will i satisfy the expectations
that i have innately set for myself?
will the amount of preparation
and effort be substantial? or will
it all just go to waste?
sweat, anxiety, panic, distress.
i flush all of those mindsets
i cannot dissapoint myself.
i take a deep breath,
look at my notes,
and begin my seven minute
a skin related disease
to my fifth period biology class.