Tennis Ball

I’m caught in this game
with you against yourself.
Some moments you are
dedicating your win to me,
others cursing me for your loss.

I never know who to root for
‘cause you are my love
and my torture.

If I knew who the champion would be
who would emerge victorious
then I could make a decision.

But I am a tennis ball
and your two sides are
hitting me back and forth
bruising me with every stroke
wearing down my bright green color
leaving dingy grey cracks covering my heart.