It arrives all at once.
The anxiety, the fear, the doubt.
You act like it’s fine and cool, but they’re all fronts.
Confidence crumbles like cardboard, and suddenly, your voice can no longer shout.
–
When all of the air in the room turns to water
You’re left to wonder if you have what it takes to grow gills
Can you blend in with the fish, or will you fail and falter?
You begin to wonder “Will I ever breathe again?” And breathe again, I will.
–
After all, not every building that chips will crumble.
With every seismic shake, every rock and shift:
You will trip and will stumble.
But never allow yourself to fall or rift.
–
When the air is gone, I will make my own.
When the buildings fall, I will use the rubble to build a throne.
