Speech Class

My heart is racing about a thousand paces.
Will they judge me? Will they accept me?
Will they love me for who I am of what I am?
Then I stop. Does it matter?

Of course it does. Deep down inside
I can feel it like a demonic shadow
Lurking within my bone’s marrow
Sucking me dry, like a leech.

Causing my hands to tremble at
The mere thought of exposing
My heart to be dissected by the ravenous
Entity to which I stake my survival

My stomach tightens, and bile rises
Forming some tsunami of nausea
Drying my throat as I swallow
Attempting to calm the storm

The hair on my body prickles
like some spooked feline
but the most that I can do is breathe
and clench… and breathe some more

Then it is done... Speech class…