S-s-s-s-stutter

S-s-s-stutter

Did you have something to say?

Y-yes

Go on. Spit it out.

When is th-th-the open mic?

Oh. December third.

She won't be able to understand that.

Tell her it's D-d-d-d-d-december Th-th-th-th-third.

Everyone mocks it.  

But I can't help it.

The words get stuck in my mouth,

heavy as lead.

I used to be fine.

Why can't I speak like everyone else now?

Anxiety has caught up to me.

No more running.

December Third

Cold, grey day.

Words are frozen in my throat. 

I can barely say hello.

Up on stage now.

Looking at a small crowd below. 

I w-w-wrote this poem for m-my grandmother.

Then I see her.

Small sweet woman.

Poet in her day.

Smiling back at me.

Cold, grey day

melts away.

Lead in my mouth,

sound's coming out.