Okay

Is this.

okay.

I don’t

know.

.

I stand in a circle

and a barrage

of questions

come down on me.

Favorite color-

Is it only black and blue?

Favorite phase-

Sticks and stones….

Ever been bullied?

.

The people in the circle

all step forward

but I hang back.

Have I

ever been bullied?

.

I remember

being mean

in elementary

being what I would later

consider a bully

just to go along

with what my then friend wanted,

when another girl asked

why I wouldn’t be

friends with her.

.

But

what about me?

Have I been the victim?

I am the last one standing back-

Surely…

I remember a small instance

it was just s m a l l.

Did it even c o u n t?

I step in.

And I remember

.

I am at the center

of my own circle

as my memories

that I blocked

gush out.

I remember

the pushing

it counts

the name calling

it counts

the subtle words

it counts

the defeated silence

it counts

and everything else

they all count.

.

Why did my mind,

pass them by,

why did I not consider

those memories

while I waited

to step forward

and answer.

It is okay,

I know that now.

I can call it

what it was,

what it is,

bullying.

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