A Hit

A hit, not fatal, but wounding, Meant to target and it did, I wish it didn’t hurt so much, The hurt cannot be suppressed, It builds inside of my lungs, Like turbulent water behind a smooth stone dam, Tempting the constraints with every wisp and bite, Until it cannot be held inside any longer, What erupts is not me, This rage, these cutting words, Are foreign, The tears come unwarranted, streaking down my cheeks, Betraying my fury with every last drop, A slight never forgotten, I don’t want this A hit, not fatal, but wounding, Not meant to target, but it did, I wish I couldn’t feel pain, My hurt cannot be hidden, It swells on the fringe of a cool façade, A glimmer here with the twitch of the eye, A glimmer there with a momentary stutter, A hike in tone, Released only later in tears muffled within, I wish it would stop A hit, not fatal, but wounding, Not meant to target, not spoken aloud, but hurt it did, An unknowable force builds within my chest, Screaming for a release that never comes, Building and building ‘til it targets another, A bystander, a friend, a mother, father, brother, With a hit, not fatal, but wounding, Meant to target and it does