A Skip

I entered this one and this one in an online poetry contest. My heart beats a little strangely right now. Not because of any competitive sort of reason, but more due to the fear of being an idiot with my words. It's all fun and games but when you submit something for someone to really look at and critique....fahgit abaht et! I am a big chicken. My words mean the world to me. Why do you think I haven't sat down written anything other than a few chapters of a story or poetry but nothing long despite the thousands of stories swimming around in my fat head?! I can't stop the incessant fear of looking like a fool...even to me.

My heart isn't beating right. I think my left arm is going numb. Is this a heart attack?!