I’m now comfortable reading my poetry aloud
A confidence that has been given and shared.
It’s a euphoric fear, both liberating and terrifying
And has led me those rooms for poetic expression
Lecture halls and libraries that induce exhilarating nerves
Standing on the podium, reading my words to strangers
Opening up in an already exposed room.
It is me and not the audience who feels naked.
A competition you don’t care for winning
The one time it’s the taking part that counts.
But when my name is called as a runner up
The feeling of pride is like no other –
I am not ashamed to be proud of what I can achieve.
This happiness is short lived though.
Crushed so easily in a sentence;
“Sure it’s only because the judge fancied ya”