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Recital
My world slants
as I march to the scaffold—
a stage
meticulously adorned with ribbons
and holiday wreaths.
Imprisoned to the bench,
my hands
are shackled to the ivory;
witnesses watch
as I carry out the crime.
The piano—polished, refined,
emits a sound comically grotesque.
When the torment ends
I stand. I bow.
Apologies on my tongue.
Like a noose
pity hangs
Heavy.
The dissonant harmony,
it fades
into the audience
with me.
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My last piano performance I’ve ever done in front of a large group of people went something like this. Though I still practice in my down time, my social anxiety for performance still sits with me to this day.