obsidian
lately i wear my heart like a weapon
and every new break heals with a scar shaped like a suture,
and despite my failures in chess
i prove my talent at calculated and calm
so that this stone is whittled into a precise point
and the black volcanic stone remains protected
within a sheath made of letter from the folds of other boys skin
and it swings at my waist with each step i take
you, somehow, pry my fingers from the handle
so you can hold them at my side
and with my focus distracted
you remove my weapon from it’s cover
as i glance in terror more than anger,
i am immediately calmed at the sight of yr reflection
printing itself on the polished black
let’s change this rock into something beautiful
like a necklace to adorn my clavicles
to honor them for carrying my heavy, burdensome heart
until you arrived to carve it into chambers
capable of pumping blood.