My stomach retracted,
shrank into a black hole,
******* in any courage
that had been stubborn enough
to hang around.

The mic stared at me,
back lit and back dropped
with the steady throb
of anticipation waiting in judgement.
I gripped it
as the lifeline and shield
that it had become -
as I let loose the words
half remembered from an eon ago.

And after a blur of feeble utterance
I fell into the envelope of applause,
part filling the void within and lifting my heart,
until it reached my mouth,
ready for my next poem.

My stomach hesitated,
but held its ground.
...