Starve the argument—
refuse it the feast of your breath.
Do not water weeds with attention,
do not cradle the flame
that only burns. Silence
is not surrender, it is strength
in the shape of stillness.
Amputate drama—
cut it clean at the root.
It will howl, of course,
like a wolf denied its prey,
but you are not the wilderness
it can devour. Be surgical,
sharp, deliberate. Save yourself.
Rot or grow—
the choice nests in your palms.
Do you press buried hurt
into sunlight, or do you leave it
to decay, to turn soil rich
again under your feet?
Even endings can bloom beginnings.