i am trying to put myself back together / slam chapbook

pardon me, i am much smaller than i say i am

pardon me, i am much smaller than i say i am.
notice, i said nothing of what i think i am.
i do think i am smaller than i am.
i do really have no perception of size.

like, the size of my first slam:
i expected eleven angsty teens
cooped up in some bland classroom
because the slam was run through
my high school.

our sponsor hung christmas lights
and a spotlight
and brought us coffee and snacks
and filled her portable
past the fire limit
full of people for us.

my first slam,
i lost by a fourth of a point
to a feminist
because when you fill a room with
teenage girls
what else will win?
there is no room
for my sad gay
"i-hate-your-mother"
poems for my ex girl.
but i stood up there
i put more passion into it
than a grey's anatomy kiss,
gripping the desk to try and stop myself from shaking
pardon me i am so so so much smaller than i act
than i act
than i act
i am acting
can i be retracting myself from the fact that i am not who i claim to be.
it takes me weeks to prepare for these slams and still i'm weak at the knees
when i saw my best friend in the crowd tears started rolling down my cheeks
because it shocked me that someone did believe in me
pardon me i am much smaller than i say i am
and understand
that i am only this way because i have no other choice