Poetry For The Dreamers With Clouded Minds And Shaky Hands

Crush

Loud marching bands
Stage fright
Anxiety
That feeling before you fall
Looking over the rail of a tall building

You

All of these things make my stomach twist. It feels hallow, like it's shrinking or being stretched thin over a cannon. It crawls up my body, trying to inch up my throat and escape out of my mouth or nose, anyway it can find to escape. I have to chock it back down.

You try to start a conversation with me but, my throat is occupied by the lump you created. I'm swallowing down my stomach. I can't talk to you because my vocal cords are made of jump ropes for my skipping heart to play with. My body betrays me and my head is spinning.

How do you expect me to talk to you when I can't find my voice. It's so loud in here. What did you say?

Theirs ringing in my ears is that the door, I can't tell. My tough is stumbling and feels like lead. How am I supposed to get back to my car? A filter glosses over my eyes, I hate talking to you. I can't talk to you.

Where is the bar?

Around you I can't think. I'm tried of stomachs flipping, losing voices, spinning minds, and small talk. Why is talk described as small? Is it because when it's used I feel like your stepping on me like I'm just a mouse?

I have to go, your really sweet but, I've lost my taste for over priced candys.

My body betrays me time and again. Over crush after crush and guy after guy. I'm tried of falling head over heels when you won't be there to catch me.

Turn away, drive away, stomach stops hurting.

Maybe next time I'll fall in love with myself. Maybe next time my stomach will stay put and my heart will just beat and my head would face forward instead of directly at my feet but, then again falling does feel a lot like flying.

And after all, I've always wanted to be a superhero.