This gun is my gun

This gun is my gun-
This gun I hold right here
with bullets in it,
In my hand, my gun,
In my hand, and you, you,
my friend, you cannot possibly
gauge the significance,
the overarching absoluteness,
the severity of sensation-
my friend, this gun, in my hand,
this metal, this wood, this oil,
cylinder, trigger, hammer
you do not feel this gun,
you, in my sight, you,
feeling the fabric of your empty pockets
with the sweaty tips of your fingers.
You cannot know the meaning of
my gun in my hand, now,
alive with blood.