I make

myself small.
Head down,
body folded
up.
I want
to be
invisible, or
run, far away.
Putting
huge distance between
me
and this
terrible thing.

I don’t
what to be
exposed. As
weak, as stupid,
as thinking more
of myself,
than I should. Of
being found out
as
not being
good enough.
With aspirations
above my
rather modest
station.

I watch this movie
unfold. In my head,
and in
my body.
Discomfort,
panic and clammy palms.

I stay with
it.
And ask: If not me, then who?
Where is the
superhuman,
who can instantly
excel at this? Without
struggle.
Please send her
in, I’d like to bow
down
to her graces.

My pulse stills. My
nostrils lose
their flare.
No one arrives.

I remain here.
To do the things
I dream
of doing, of
emptying that bucket list
of experiences.
Of unfurling
into the full-colour
version
of
me.

~Lu