Even if the skies get rough

I hate stumbling, and feeling like the ground is moving beneath my feet. Not that anyone enjoys having their world tilted, or shoved. To feel like the sky has suddenly turned a shade of black that you only see in the horror movies. That the tendrils of failure are creeping out from the maze of life and pulling you down. 

The pavement of success is buckling underneath my feet and causing me to get sea legs. To become jelly. To not trust that I do actually know what I'm doing. The fear of failure is weighing down on my chest, and causing my heart to race, to pound, to pain me with the thoughts of defeat. 

But I'm trying to regroup. To convince myself that two mistakes aren't going to be my downfall, as long as I learn from them. 

Because I won't let them pull me down. Because I can do this. Because I will do this.