Flesh Became Stone

The blade forms nicks in the surface

Etches pain into the smooth exterior

Memorializes it

Dyes it a stinging, tomato red

A fresh carving

Another dent in hastily polished tranquility

Saline tears are like soothing balm

careening down the row of lines

Stubborn reminders of the past

traced beneath his fingers

And when he looked upon his scars

He turned into glistening stone

Strong and hardened

Conquering the hurt

Bearing the infirmities

Branding them on his sleeve

Not as a mark of disgrace

But of convalescent beauty