The Standing Earthquake

by tajerab7

March 20, 2019

Here I am.

Creak. Creak.

Creeping towards the front of the room.

My head hanging like the precious banana of a swinging monkey.

I can feel the sweat pools collecting under my arms and in my new pink socks.

Squish. Squish.

So much noise as walked to my doom.

Then I reached it.

The eyes staring at me.

I took too long. They start to whisper.

I stand there some more; the whispers getting louder.

Wiss. Wiss.

Why are they being so loud?!

Can they hear me? My inner thoughts!

Oh no. They can!

They're laughing now. Louder and louder.

Until the room starts shaking.

The kids stop laughing.

Rumble. Rumble.

Rupture of applause from the audinece for the speech I don't remember giving.

The words I don't remember saying.

The earthquake I don't remember creating.

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Comments (1)

tajerab7Mar 20, 2019

<p>I wrote this poem about how it feels every time I have to give a presentation and how I walk to the front of the room and feel like I'm gonna fall on my face, and then I don't remember anything that came out of my mouth.</p>