Anxiety slowly building up inside me.
I kept thinking
I’ll get the next one.
It’s fine.

I’m
Rubbing my hands together
                           as if it helped me let go
                                                     of all the self-loath

Squeezing the            of my jersey
                     bottom
      as if it could press away
                                         all of my nerves

                           up

Running my hands      and          my shorts

                                       down
      as if it would wipe away all the
self-consciousness,
                            embarrassment,
                                                     and disappointment 

Adjusting my ponytail
as if it would wrap up
                       my
                  frustration

Pulling up my knee pads
as if it would cover up
                   my mistakes

Touching the ground
    as if it would push
                               down  a l l
                                        the memories of my unsuccessful hits

Cracking my knuckles
as if it would  b r e a k 
                    all the bad choices I made

The whistle blew
The volleyball hovered over the net
                      time for another try.