I watch you rip your body with a visceral rage, in the name of what? Attacking the very parts of yourself that will keep you alive. What is this body without a head? What is this pulpit without hands to praise or legs to lift?
Your withering core, an empty sacred hall, will not continue on. Your arms and hands were not trying to strangle you, your legs and feet not trying to trip you. Arms are for embracing and sometimes your feet just need to change direction…
but you have long forgotten the embrace of your own body. You were never supposed to be a warrior, because you were never supposed to destroy. You forgot you were made to be a lover, a savior in training. You cannot save them when you are fighting within yourself.