Numbers?

1,2,3,4…
Once more
1,2,3,4…
Once more

It seems something so easy has become a task so hard,
Yet still, it’s not realised as skin’s not bruised, nor scarred,
Eyes focus on their target and prepare for light to bounce,
Face twitches as it prepares for the whole world to pounce.

7,8,9,10…
Try again
7,8,9,10…
Try again

As numbers rise the bubbling liquid drowns the sense of sight,
Rising up through the stomach until it smothers the light,
Blocking rationality, replacing it with dreams,
Of looks and glances, hopes are dashed, reality (as it seems).

5,4,3,2…
Why can’t you?
5,4,3,2…
Why can’t you?

The countdown seems before a race as preparations start,
Air sprints in and out of mouth, running to the heart,
As air goes out with breathing, why do words not follow?
Panic flows through every vein, but why? How should I know?

9,2,10,5
Are you alive?
9,2,10,5
Are you alive?

Distorting all sense of order, chaos reigning free,
Who would have thought such a fear could take over me?
I might calm down, but still it seems that I am somehow weak,
Because all I was asked to do was just one thing: Speak.