The Question Marks

I sat in that chair, every word a misstep,

while questions circled, I felt them intercept.

Nervous laughter escaped, my hands turned to lead,

my answers all tangled, like thoughts in my head.

My resume crumpled, tucked deep in my pocket,

where dreams feel locked up, like a broken locket.

He mentioned the day like it was written in stone,

while I stumbled through words, and felt so alone.