Harm.

I knew it was coming,
But it can still grate,
The spoken words,
Badly covering hate.
Is it hate?
Or is it spite?
Will words issued,
Be regretted tonight.
Is it just programming,
To always be mean,
To chose, every time,
To deride and demean.
The fierce nature of words,
As they spit from your lips,
Makes me take a deep breath,
Roll in fingertips.
I try to be gracious,
I try to be calm,
But I can't shake the feeling,
Your doing me harm.