respectful, not patronizing

I don't need to tell someone

That I don't believe what they do

If that belief isn't harming me

And it isn't an act of intimacy

 

I aim for compassion and respect

And sometimes that means agnostic

If they find comfort in their belief

Why would I challenge that worldview

Long as they aren't pushing it on me

I don't need to tout my skepticis

By explaining their belief to them

Because belief doesn't work for me.

at least some men

I'm not looking to date a man

Or invest into some grown boy

Go ahead and call it man hate

But it's really self-preservation

Searching for an exception to all men

Means we have to roll the dice

Invite the risk of real trauma

The feminist in me is repelled 

I would consider gender fluid

Or some sort of non-binary

But even then I'm doubtful

My new romantic ideal is a rebel

Rejecting gender expectations 

Eager for reversal of roles

Someone who wants to know me

And all my wierd and flawed.

abled accommodation

If you're able bodied

You receive accommodation

You just don't know it

Those of us disabled

Present ourselves as palatable

Our silence is accommodation 

We edit out the uncomfortable parts

Hiding the differences we can

You don't have our lived experience 

And always explaining is exhausting

Our patience is an accommodation

Not asking or expecting too much

Putting up with nosy questions

Excusing the demands of explanation

Accepting that compassion is rare

Even being open is an accommodation

We put ourselves at risk of disgust

Seen as entertainment or a curiosity

Treated like an inspiration, an infant

And not the expert of our own story

So we accommodate the world

We make due with what we have

We certainly don't expect better

Expectation leads to disappointment

And fair treatment is rare to find.

peace for me

Actuary tables don't see my worth

They see an unimportant complainer

At what point am I flailing madly

Suffering my sanity to a fruitless fight

How much life am I losing

Fighting a system that ignores me

My everyday has always suffered

The burden of my ill health

So you might understand

How I value the time I gain

Embracing peace over a battle

I already lost the genetic lottery

Not choosing a war against medicine.

no longer baby making machine

My nether parts stopped working

They gave upon their own

Didn't have to convince a doctor

Or get any man on board

Retired from procreation

I aged out of the assembly line

No more questioning my choice

Or urging my submission

No chance I'll ever be a mamma

I've gone men-on-pause. 

the lie of inadequacy

Sold a bill of goods

They say I'm imperfect

They promise a cure

If I buy this product 

I will surely get better

But it's a never ending loop

A plate of false promises

A goal out of reach

Self hatred, doubt, and shame

That is what they taught me

While I aim for the goal of better

Another dollar spent to be perfect

But it's mirrors and snake oil

They have no fix for my broken

They made up the lie that I'm broken.

Support from the sideline

Your voice has power

Speaking with the best of intentions

But if you are not one of us

Don't speak for us

You are easier to see

Your existence isn't challenging

But they need to feel that discomfort

They need to put eyes on us

You are easier to hear

Because your voice is palatable 

You don't mean to hide our voice

We need them to hear from us

It isn't easy sitting on the sidelines

Passively supporting our protest

But that what we need from you

Step asside and let us shine.

considered expendable

Not considered in strategy

Our lives considered less worthy

Forgotten during a tragedy

Not as valuable as healthy

Left behind in an emergency

Inconvenient to protect my safety 

Don't tell me you honor my disability

When you risk my life so freely

Acceptable loss for the community 

A burden discarded for the many.

capitalism isn't romantic

There is a false narrative

That hard work will win

That poverty is by choice

That productivity is a moral good

That you can defy statistics 

That classism doesn't exist

That people aren't biased

And that anyone can be on the top

But the truth isn't romantic

Life is more important than work

There are things we can't control

Most of us aren't exceptional

The wealthy benefit from the poor

The system keeps you in your place

And work isn't why you are valuable.

nothing special about my needs

Don't squirm away

From language you don't like

Convincing yourself it's right

To paint me in a different light

You can't fix what's wrong

By giving it another name

And when you demand I conform

When you tell me what to say

Those words are not for me

Maybe you feel powerful and safe

With a new set of terms

But your euphemism is in the way

Of my hard-won identity

I don't let you gatekeep 

What I choose to describe me.

getting along at work

Mental illness doesn't fit in

Sometimes a subtle odd behavior

Is enough to be labeled an outsider

Bias others against your favor

Work expects us to be the same

And to become a part of the team

Meaning acceptance from others

We are graded on belonging

Skills and productivity are the goal

But neither guarantee retention

If you can't find a way to blend

Work will seek someone better.

what you can do

Venting to vent doesn't work

If you want steam to subside

Remove flame, water, or pressure

Only you can alter your reaction

When fighting fire with fire

You lead to a bigger fire

You are likely to burn yourself

Be willing to give up the flame

If you never replenish the water

The water will dissipate 

You burn the bottom of the pan

Lack of action has consequence

If you decide to ignore it

By plugging up the steam

Eventually it will explode

Take action now, not later

You want to make it stop

You have to change the system

You have to decide to do different

You have the power to change.

suffocating lies

Your lies hurt me

Like a slow growing mold

Hidden in the walls of my house

Maybe you think you are saving us

From the harm of conflict

But I know something is not right

The dank smell of what's unsaid

Chokes me as I try to breathe

Maybe you're protecting yourself

From the sting of my disappointment 

But you're infecting our world

I'm woozy from the inconsistancy

Think of how nice an open door is

Sharing vulnerability is a calm breeze

Give me a chance to forgive you

Instead suffocating in shame.

your ugly is showing

It's hard to see you

Going back to your life

As if the world is normal

While a pandemic is thriving

We don't need those old Ugly Laws

To force us undesirables inside

All we need is your disinterest  

And a mass disabling event

So I wear my mask and stay inside

While you celebrate a return to life

An hope I never meet that fated day

When your disinterest will infect me.

unreliable

Despite my best intentions

All my effort to be organized

My body is unreliable

You can't count on me

Never know when my health will fail

Or when I won't remember detail

Can't say what days I won't be present

Or predict how many hours I can offer

If there were a habit I could cultivate 

I've spent a lifetime searching for it

I do the best with what I'm given

And aim to be as reliable as I can.

keeping it to myself

If I share my discomfort

With someone unfamiliar

Then I end up comforting them

Because their uncomfortable

They can say terrible things

Like, "I'd die if I were you."

I'm burdened with educating them

That may people live like I do

It's easier to fib with, "I'm good."

Than to convince them, "I'm fine."

I've learned to survive and accept

My flawed body and mind.