As I sit down in class with my stomach churning
My hands are shaking and my head is turning
To find something of comfort to distract me
From the eyes tracing my face catching acne
From the people wanting to give me hugs
When my back is drenched in sweat
From swaying back and forth and moving like a slug
Slow and clumsy, I wish my brain and feet had met.
I wish I could **** this anxiety
I wish this lock had a key.