I did an exercise with my 12th grade Creative Writing students (all girls!) today where we wrote a poem about a time we felt angry and then took phrases from it to write a scene in our longer piece of fiction we are working on for the end of the year. It was cathartic and difficult all at once, but it was a relief to take our own feelings and let our main characters "borrow them". Here’s my poem:
You used your power like the tip of a knife
enough to wound
to cause me pain
to leave a scar
And yet, you said it all with a smile
as if you knew
(but could care less)
my feelings were hurt, I felt small.
Then, when I was proven right
(you were wrong)
you didn’t even apologize.
Now I’m the one with the secret smile.