Speaking From Shivers

Hands cold.

Sweat beading across my forehead

but

too numb to properly feel it.

Deep breaths.

Inspirational quotes.

"The only thing we have to fear

is fear

itself." 

Another shudder.

Another drop of sweat.

Looking left and right of me, 

noting the other running candidates.

All running for leadership positions.

Noticing which were running for what.

Noticing who were really my competitors.

Watching the other speeches being given.

Swallowing nervously, waiting to be called.

Getting called up.

Stomach clenching with anticipation.

Grasping the microphone in my hand.

Speaking.

As I speak, the nervousness edges away.

My stomach unclenches.

I settle into a confident tone.

What's this? Am I... enjoying this?

Nearing the end of my speech.

Smiling broadly.

Listening.

Thinking...

I did it.

 

 

Finishing.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community
My country
Our world

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741