How Do I Put It?

Numbness, best explained, is deprivation of sensation.

With this, I’m well acquainted.

So if I’m feeling this so often, does it count for feeling something?

Familiar with nothing.

I have no time to answer

as I readjust my cuff links.


Pause and recollect.


Sucking in some deep breaths.

I’m expected to deliver. My giving’s growing frequent.

From stage, my name is called.

Standing here, I hear it.


My feet begin to carry me down the carpeted hall of charity.

I finally reach the steps and rush up like something’s chasing me.


Take my place in front of podium.

Standing here I’m growing numb.

I need to try and build them up.

But what I have is not enough.


Deep concerns leave me gutless.

Numbness disappears, and insecurities start to rush in—

Like if I’m even standing properly. I start to fidget awkwardly. Didn’t I practice this in a mirror? Still, my appearance loves to bother me.

Pray to God for un-shut lungs to keep myself from choking up.

I consider this all in seconds—

The fact that I’m a spokesman—

And my wetless lips have opened.