Stand and
deliver,
it should be easy.
Take the venom
that flows through
your veins and let it shout.
Let the love that remains
bubble to the surface
and then pour that out.
Take every emotion and wring it dry,
take the feelings that make you cry
and let them fall from your lips
like raindrops from an overcast sky.
Stand and deliver.
Take the bile
created in the liver,
take the anger
that you can feel slither
through every nerve,
and let the words soar.
Take every ounce of rage,
the pain that makes you ill,
every teardrop left upon your page
and deliver them like a pill
to administer the cure.
It’s easy they say,
break free from your cage
and let your words spray
true and raw.
So, with quivering legs of jelly
I wobble. Unsteady. I flail.
I’m not ready.
What if I fall? What if I fail?
Internally I’m churning.
My face burning.
I’m yearning for the world
to swallow me.
Take me. Cover me.
Hold me tightly like a lover
and stop this
sweat drenched face
from being uncovered.
But the words
start to seep out of me.
The mic cracks, I step slightly back
and feel my breathing relax.
Then I step forward.
On the attack.
I’m running barefoot through
blades of glass
and I feel the shards cutting my soul
whilst dodging the mental feedback
that is trying to stop me in my tracks,
but my heart is still intact
and the words... The words
have taken a life of their own.
Now my voice is not mine,
It’s borrowed, on loan.
A whole new tone
giving my stories
a brand-new home.
Thanks for reading
Follow this link for more.
https://linktr.ee/Wordsandfluff
continue to do this.
Peace, Love & Poetry
Kyle
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