I Write Poetry

In eighth grade I performed a slam poem about bullying
In front of my bully.
My hands would not stop shaking;
My whole damn body would not stop shaking.
When I finished,
Everyone clapped and the next person stood up
To perform.
At the end of the class,
The very inspiration of the poem
Walked up to me and asked
“Did that really happen to you?”
I nodded my head,
Not because I was too scared to speak
But because of the complete disbelief
I was feeling
When you couldn’t see
That you were the source
Of every single, miserable detail.