Una noche de poetry night.

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by Emili8631

by Emili8631

It was a long day at work, as commonly.
Let's go to wash our face and bad energies away.
Check out you're no missing something, make sure everything is in your purse.
Tomorrow is finally your day off
Poetry night's excited begins as it unravels in my chest.
It's suddenly tight up.
Flying in the middle of the train,
Music is always our font of inspiration.

Pay your entrance, you're late again.
The list is closed, better wait for next Tuesday.
No, Is not an excuse.
Take a sit, a listen.

You listen to their ideas,
and question yourself.
Why?

What does their lyrics say
that you can't find in your own?

What's behind your doubt?

Is it fear of failure?
Failing in what?
Is it fear of bullying?
But look at your surroundings
Is it fear of struggling with the microphone?
Is it fear of losing your voice?

Or Is it that the knot it your throat
could be stronger than your vocal cords
when every situation
that has happened in my brain
comes to live
whenever I read the lines i write?

Is it cause I end up bleeding
every time I read them.
The storm inside me
begins to rain.

When I read them,
Ghosts from the past
touch my heart.
And it burns so hard.
I can't breathe,
not in front of everybody.
No when everyone
is looking at me.
I don't want to feel like this,
I don't want to be seeing me like this
I can't be me.
I'm not strong enough.
Yes, I have faced life
and all of its battles.
But I never learned
how to be vulnerable.

...

This is 4 street W station.
Wait, what?
Wasn't I already at poetry night?
What am I doing inside the train?
Was my imagination flying again?
Never mind, take deep breath.
Keep moving forward.

Pay your entrance, you're late again.
The list is closed,
next week I'll try again.
It must have been a sign.
Better sit down and listen.
Maybe next time.

-Embrujada.