The mouse and the rising gun

I sit still
Too staggered to even breathe
You hold a gun against my forehead,
Demand me things I can't fulfill
Demand me sacrifices I can't afford
Your safire eyes burn with love
Love I can not respond with lust.
Love I can't escape with trust.
I can't get out.
I raise the gun.
The tables have turned
But still the situation's the same
As it ever was.
I am still the victim here.
At least I believe I am.
At nights we are at truce
No bullets shot
No shots taken
But when the sun comes up
It brings the burning hell with it
And we are still the same
Victims of no crime
Victims of our own fears
Intimidated by our own insecurity