when the perilous moment comes
(if not the next then the next or the next)
I'm going to freeze up again
like a coward
or a lamb green schoolboy
after all my adventures,
experiences, and confrontations
they're the frown on my smile,
the medicated shame of my bravado,
the jumpy underbelly of all my artistry,
the petrified crag beating
under my hairy chest
Comments
MaggieG | September 4, 2011 - 16:03
My Da often called that "panic" the brain's survival skills working overtime.
I think he might be right :)