Every day I erase pieces of myself
so I can go out into the world.
I swallow sad stories like horse pills
prescribed by a doctor who didn’t read my chart.
I laugh away all mentions of my physical pain,
knowing others will find comfort in my smile.
I layer clothing on top of emotional scars
so no one is afraid to see my body.
I temper my Blackness like chocolate,
readying myself to be perfectly palatable.
Every day I remind myself that erasure is impermanent.
My pencil can be sharpened to puncture hearts.