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.