There are only so many times
a person can duck
before the attacker takes the hint
and aims lower,
and who's to say this doesn't come as
an all-round relief?
Surely it's better than dying from boredom.

You keep on asking me
what and who I am
and all I can answer is
I'm just me,
I can't be anything more,
but that never seems to satisfy you,
you seem to think I'm holding back.

I am.

If you could just take the hint,
aim a little lower,
perhaps then the truth would hit me
and maybe even rebound back to you
if a bullet were to ricochet off my cold shoulder.

The trick is to make me fall.
At the moment all you're doing
is making me crouch inside myself
and look for some kind of shelter from you
and everything you throw at me.
Bring me out of my head
and force me to look in your eyes.
Perhaps in some hazy point of
compromising peace
we'll find at least half a truth to share.

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