The Injury

I remember the room…
The accepting aches
The smell of sweat
The loud laughter

I loved that room…
I enjoyed everything about it

But then came the day…
When I heard the crack
When I swayed
And fell back against the mat

I couldn’t get up…
I hated that feeling

I remember loathing myself…
The pressing detest
The constant resentment
The hot hostility

I’m left thinking…
Why am I this weak?
Why now…?
Why me…?
WHY…!?