Ask a question on the spot,
I shrink and am close to crying.
Ask me to perform or present?
My hearts pounding and I'm lying.
"No. It's alright. I'm fine. Just a bit of nerves."
I'm terrified.
Ask me to come over?
I'm shaking curled up on my side.
Put me in a group?
I'll back off scared,
and listen to everyone else on loop.
I can't do anything.
For fear
of being judged.
Or just because of building anxiety.
I can't.
I just can't.
YOU ARE READING
Nobody Was Meant to See
Poetry[Trigger Warning, please be safe when reading] They aren't supposed to know. They aren't meant to read these poems that I'm writing. I've concealed them for a reason. -Shitty poems about how I feel-
