In the Spotlight

In that sterile room, faces align,

like stars in a cosmos where I can't shine,

flashes of eyes that dissect my skin,

a coffee spill stains the confidence thin.

Every breath, a spotlight, harsh and bright,

my words stumble like stars lost in flight,

it's just a presentation, I say to the room,

but the pressure mounts, and I start to bloom.

Each laugh feels crafted, rehearsed and tight,

while nerves wrap around me, an unforgiving bite,

drowning in gazes, I wrestle my fear,

yet still I spill secrets I wish would stay clear.