When my heart is feeling feint,
Butterflies inside,
I can conceal my nervousness.
The terror I can hide.

By smiling, sighing, breathing deep
I bring the beast to bay.
But I’m betrayed every time.
One thing gives me away.

I feel it slowing rising up
My sentiments to betray.
I push it down, to no avail.
It’s always in the way.

Suddenly, without a clue
The bubble seems to burst
And I let out a tremendous belch.
It is a horrid curse.



NaPoWriMo — Day Nine:   Write a poem that includes a line that you’re afraid to write. This might be because it expresses something very personal that makes you uncomfortable – either because of its content (“I always hated grandma”), or because it seems too emotional or ugly or strange (“I love you so much I would eat a cockroach for you”). Or even because it sounds too boring or expected (“You know what? I like cooking noodles and going to bed at 7 p.m.”). But it should be something that you’re genuinely a little scared to say.

This malady has been with me for a long time, but I only realised it today.  It’s embarrassing to admit, but now it is out there:  I belch aloud when I am extremely nervous.