Weightless with Anticipation

In a black and silver frame, dusted and old. 

There it is.

The only image I have of of that moment. I look at it as 

I shoot directly back into that memory. 

That day.

I entered the arena, I practiced with vigor and strength.

I yelled as I threw myself into the excitement.

I ran and I twirled, I flipped and I stood proud.

My body knew the memory, my brain knew the routine.

My adrenaline surged through me as I exposed my winning smile.

Next, they screamed. We were next and in that instant, 

My mind emptied. As the anxiety whispered my secrets.

The routine was gone. The muscle memory faded. 

All I could hear was the overplayed songs.

The bass shook my entire body and goosebumps crept over my neck.

Do I want to go do this? It now seemed new and terrifying.

Right as my brain battled my heart and I wanted to walk away, 

The curtain opened. 

There was no turning back for them. For us. For me.

Time dragged its hands and the seconds stretched on for minutes. 

As we started my muscles controlled me, 

Instead of I controlling them. Here comes my moment. 

As they launched me twenty feet into the sky. 

My stomach in knots, the spotlight blinds us all, 

Teasing death has a funny way of focusing us all.

The throw feels like flying as my body whispers the moves.

In that second, I don’t hear anything as I zoom back into the ground. 

Not the crowd, or the music, or the beating of my heart. 

I panic in the silence. The whole performance could shatter in 

Just a couple of slow moving seconds.

After I come down, I hear the crowd roaring. Energy circles the 

Arena as the fans gasp a sigh of relief 

Cheerleading is a dangerous sport.

Screams from the crowd come from all directions.

That sound of excitement and fear is what I lived for.

It was all captured there in that dingy, old frame. 

As their faces pray, their breath is held.

My smile spread out and the 

seconds drudged on

And my body remembers what my heart could not.