Unlearning the Blade

To the thoughts that kiss

my forehead each night,

sanding down my grit

like paper against stone—

Remind me not to wear

my grief

like a badge of honor

Tell me, I don’t need knives

to prove how sharp they are

Stop them from piercing

through my chest

Because to prove pain

is to cause it

And to die at my own hands

is to endorse it

Asna Nauf