Center stage.
Where I've always felt at home.
Bright lights meet my eyes,
And the nerves drill me to the bone.
His lines so fluent,
a desperate success at memorization
and fluidity in movement;
so calm.
The words flow out of my mouth
like a second language
required, but not quite.
And only once it's all over do I realize,
I hate the sound of my own voice.
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 10:17 PM UTC
Center stage.
Where I've always felt at home.
Bright lights meet my eyes,
And the nerves drill me to the bone.
His lines so fluent,
a desperate success at memorization
and fluidity in movement;
so calm.
The words flow out of my mouth
like a second language
required, but not quite.
And only once it's all over do I realize,
I hate the sound of my own voice.
