A clipped voice,
slips noise-
lessly
into
the fray.
Yellow
and shaky.
Bland, I know.
I hate to
Say.
Butterfly
in a storm,
normally deep.
I crack,
lacking wingspan.
Headcave retreat.
Feet save
my mouth.
Because the wrong
thing ran.
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 1:05 PM UTC
A clipped voice,
slips noise-
lessly
into
the fray.
Yellow
and shaky.
Bland, I know.
I hate to
Say.
Butterfly
in a storm,
normally deep.
I crack,
lacking wingspan.
Headcave retreat.
Feet save
my mouth.
Because the wrong
thing ran.
How public speaking feels
