A Girl is a Knife

A girl is a knife,

sharp as her silence,

her edges glinting with truths

unsheathed in the dark. [1]

She carves paths where none exist,

splits the soft belly of the world

to find its marrow,

to taste the iron of her becoming. [2]

A girl is a blade,

tempered in the forge of watching,

polished by hands

that often sought to dull her gleam. [3]

But she is not to be held carelessly.

She cuts through the lies

woven into lullabies,

pierces the veil of what is owed

and what is taken. [4]

A girl is a knife—

dangerous and deliberate.

Handle her with reverence,

or risk the wound

that comes from underestimating steel. [5]