Weapon

A poem about how we abuse ourselves

My body was a weapon

That backfired and broke my will

I flung it around without training or foreknowledge

Trying to wield it in a way that would make me queen

But princesses don’t know how to wield weapons

If they aren’t built with the capacity to wield them well

So now I backtrack to my noble training

Where someone greater than me fights for me

And arms me with a weapon under my new noble name

And without the need to lose body parts in the process