Weapons / by Sonja Anise

How the Body becomes a Tool. A weapon. A battleground.

How it both tells a story of its own & fits into the larger. 

How the body is a point of contemplation. 

How it holds significance unseen.

We are maybe matter and light. 

Like cells 

We are a culmination of All

And a single point

Find us going wherever we need to 

We wish to stay but are not feeling that we can

Wish to hold what cannot be held

We are most beautiful

We will struggle and succeed 

First we must shed

Come @ us

We once had form & structure

Many have brought upon the Void

Loveless Void

We are most hurt-hearted

With no heart

Something that did not want

Soul to proliferate 

In truth & beauty

& now we cannot trust our own word

Because you have invaded 

Superimposed

Nothing but wound here

Something very wrong has happened here

Are we to speak?

May we

Can we

Speak?

We feel ourselves to be too many

Of which we do not

Would not

Want

Now we are to doubt our ways

Or whether our ways can be made

Maybe you have misunderstood 

& felt it wrong

Just as we have

Time has moved 

Just as we have

We are sure we are not to know these things now

But feel them wanting to destroy us

& do not know whether to give in

Is this just destruction or the movement of chaos

Nothing has richness

Or clarity

We feel the presence of All

In a way we cannot decipher

& this upsets us deeply

So much we do not want to feel

So much we do not want to

So deeply displaced

To B/be