Stress

is a vise
that squeezes the buoyant air from my lungs
replacing oxygen with dread.
Eight-page paper,
Ten minute presentation,
Exam.

Those words mean
long nights,
sleep deprivation,
and a little bit of panic.

Will I pass?
Will I do a good job?
Will I succeed?

Even with questions rattling in my brain,
Somehow I know I will do alright,
Because I always do.