a gun is pointed at my chest,
and instinctively,
I squeeze my eyes shut.

he pulls the trigger, and steps back
one bullet tears through my breast and exits from my back.


my tears fall,
expecting to feel pain,
expecting to see blood.

It never came.

For his bullets were just words,
insults and slurs.

Once I realized no damage was done, I thought to myself,

“He needs better ammunition”