Fourteen Years
A poem
It’s 2006, I’m four-year-old standing
in a queue with other four-year-olds
Four-year-olds with their Pokemon bags and broken pencils.
We’re asked to recite the alphabet to
the English teacher.
My turn comes, I know the alphabet but it won’t come out of my tongue.
My palms are sweaty and my face is crimson warm.
The teacher looks at me and then passes it on.
It’s 2013, I’m going to a new school.
I step onto the bus and see two people giggle and blush.
I look at my outfit and search for a spot.
But there’s nothing and I silently take the last seat.
I’m worried I won’t make any friends.
Cause every time I try to talk to someone new I get jittery and tense.
But the situation turns different.
People started approaching me and shaking my hand.
It’s 2014, I am going to give my first speech
to an audience of greater than three.
My face turns red and my palms get sweaty.
But I try to calm down and make my voice less shaky.
It’s 2020, my nerves still get high.
The adrenaline rush is never subtle or slight.
A lot of speeches and debates, and I still get a little shaky on stage.
Fourteen years have passed since the alphabet incident
and I am still tryna figure out how to initiate a conversation.
