I thought i was different from them.
all along, just figured i was the wrong caliber.
but i was naive.
in the hands of the right marksman,
in the barrel of the right gun . . .
i’m the same round.
but give me time.
i’m exploding in my youth—
i’ve quickly learned the blast hurts,
the kickback isn’t
just for looks.
i’ll take a step back.
i know i don’t even need physics
to help push me
towards my target.