in the line of fire

I stood unfrazzled
as you fired at me,
looking me in the eye,
there was nothing to do
but feel your skin shake,
with every word etched
on a breath filled with hate
that simply refused to die;
and as you shot
right through my gut,
and bullets pierced
this softened skin,
all I could do
was look you in the eye,
and smile and feel
into my worth
in this bag of skin;
and then, when the fire
was out and spent,
and you moved on your way,
I held the hole left
in my bleeding gut,
to walk on
with my head held high,
and a heart that held sway.