We keep each other going
Always open,
Always learning
To stay alive
In these dark times.

Am I forgotten
Or am I alone
Do I matter at all
Not family, no home.

What does it matter
And what do we do
A friendship's in pieces
Everything to lose

Forget it -- past tense
Because everything's lost
What we had is gone
All evidence tossed.

Can we get it back
This thing we once shared
Or have we now come
As close as we dared?

Where do we go
To see ourselves
When all that's
Deemed worthy
Are whistles and bells?

Where do we go
To belong somewhere
Surrounded by others
Who stand back
And stare?

Where do we go
To celebrate us
When society says
We just aren't
Enough?

Where do we go
To feel at ease
To breathe in deep
To feel at peace?

Where do we go
To feel affirmed
To be heard and seen
Not lessons
To be learned?

Where do we go
To grieve and weep
Knowing the secret
He had to
Keep?

Where do we go --
In truth, we don't
We're here now
And so
We won't.

Not invisible
We are right here
And we will never
Disappear.

You like information
And I
Am bored
By the constant
Need and
Expectation
That I dispense
Information -
That I educate
You.

I long to
Humanize
Myself --
To share
My experiences
But no one
Wants to hear
That.

It feels
Like I exist
Solely
To spout
Obvious truths,
Not to
Delve
Deeper.

No one
Wants
To look
Any closer,
To see
The heart,
To hear
The cries.

Instead they love
The work,
And the
Machines
Who do
The work,
Giving them
What
They long for
Without
Comment.

They just 'like' it
When we are
Objects
Selling
Products --
They 'like'
Stories
Of our lives
When we
Hate ourselves

And ignore
The bigger
Issues
Right before
Their eyes.

A bit removed
From everything
Just now -

Comfortably
Dissociated
And here's how:

Just a little
Extra spacey
Away from everything
It's hazy

Floating
Coasting
Rolling

No focus
Living inside
Some hocus
Pocus

Every November
I comb through
The embers
Of things left
Unspoken
Of truth
Never said

So each November
I sit and
Remember
The things
I had buried
And tried
To deny

November's the
Month when
It seems onto
Pages
In bits and in
Stages
As much as
It can

Every November
I sift through
The embers
Trying to find
Pieces
Of the person
I am

To glue them
Together
In some semblance
Of order
To show
Myself
Or tell of
The truth
That I see

Tell me you know
Just how it feels
To have your
Very livelihood
Threatened

Tell me you know
Just how it feels
To be treated
Like a criminal
For trying to survive
With what money
I have

Tell me you know
Just how it feels
To quietly panic
To go hot and clammy
At the
Long
Silences

Tell me you know
Just how it feels
To experience your
Platitudes and weak
Reassurances --
That all will be fine --
That it's
Not
All on the line

You don't
You will never
Know
Or
Understand

The depth
Of this fear
Or the fact
That you hold
My life
In your hands

Carrying stress
Within me.

Unless
Things work out

Then
I'll digress

But for
Right now

I'll live
With this
Indigestion

The regression
That comes
At the

Suggestion
Of losing
The home

That I
Rest in.

Irrelevant
Intentions --

Don't mention
What's coming.

Standing at
Attention

Each nerve-ending
Humming.

It will be
Awfully boring.
I don't have much
To say.

Mom and Dad
Had a good time.
Things are going
Okay.

Grounded until
The house is clean.
Failing classes
All but unseen.

Panic attacks
In bathroom stalls.
What goes on
Behind the walls.

Control yourself
As much as you can.
Make your own fire
Escape plan.

Do something else
Until it's all over.
Talk at all,
You'll blow your cover.

In so much danger,
Who to call?
Threatened we will
Lose it all

Don't say a word
Keep yourselves
Small...

Keep this house
Of cards from falling.
Reroute focus
Just keep stalling.

No one ever
Hears you calling
When you're trapped
Behind the walls.

Not worth your time
Fantastic, shut up
My teenage self
Esteem wasn't enough

Nothing was worthy
To take up this space
In notebooks or journals
Or any old place

Always afraid
Of confidence being
A thing that I held -
I called myself cocky

For the simple act of
Being sure of myself
Destroying my chances
At good mental health

The
Right family
Is subjective.

If the right family
Is the one
That does not
Institutionalize
You

But is the one
Who harms you
In all the ways

I think
It's safe to say
That it is not
The right family
After all

Stunning to think
Of just how much time
I spent so removed
Far away in my mind

So very used to
The blurry
The muted
That I accepted
This state
Of things
Undisputed

It's harder
Than it seems to be
To reintegrate
My mind
With the rest of me

But I am worth
The time it takes
Sinking back into being
For my own sake

How many hoops
Must I jump through
Before I have
What I need
To survive?

So much red tape
And not one damn
Scissors
Not even
Glimmers
Of something
Coming.

Only
The echoes
Of
Something
Gone.

Becoming
Aware of
The things
That I
Carry.

Not weight
And not
Burden
Just stuff
I have
With me.

I know
I am highly
Sensitive
To rejection

Though
I reject
The dysphoria
Because

Who is
Contented
With being
Rejected?

It should come
As no surprise
That those who
Should love
Instead despise...

But

Can you love
What you're destroying
What you're enjoying
What's annoying
You today?

Can you love
The one you're hating
No debating
You're debasing
Them this way.

But love doesn't come
With a side
Of despising
Of reprising wrongs
Of surmising thoughts.

Love doesn't come
With a side
Of hating
With ignoring
With debate
And debasing
With threats replacing...

What's there instead?

That's called
Abuse.

Where we're oft
Trapped
And can't
Be loosed.

So don't lie and
Call your
Actions love
When other words
Fit like a glove.

More Like An Ode

So,
You're disabled?

What?

You need
Services?

Well --
First things
First

I have some
Questions
I just
Have to ask:

Have you
Been to the
Doctor
Or dentist
Lately, comma,

Oh, don't give me that
About medical
Trauma
I really don't
Care you were
Sliced open, silent
If you don't
Do the thing
You'll be
Noncompliant.

(And you'll lose what you
Need,
Every bit, so take
Heed...)

Anyway...

Tell me about
Your most
Private details:
Your incontinence
Family
And mental health
Issues

I also require
A record of all the
Abuses
You've been
Subjected to.

Are you being
Abused now?
Physically?
Emotionally?
Sexually?
What would you do
If someone harmed
You?

Just a few more
And we're done
For the day...

Do you have a
DNR?
Have you been
Institutionalized?
Do you make
Too much
Money
To survive?

(Though it's
Below minimum wage
Though we cannot marry
Yes, just turn the page...)

We need you to do
One thing for us
Before we go
On our way...

Go to the doctor
To prove you're
Disabled
For access
To housing
And income
You need
To
Barely
Thrive.

It's that
Pesky poverty
We keep you
Trapped in

And finally,
For our last act
Watch us
Deny the
Ableism
You're constantly
Wrapped in

Wait.

We're back for an
Encore
And we're really keen
To know what you
Hope for
What are your dreams?

And don't you dare skirt the question

(You don't want to travel?
Or have any achievements
You want to unravel?)

Answer the questions
The way we decide
If your capacity shifts
Then you probably lied...

Answer the questions
The nondisabled way
But not too nondisabled
Or we'll take it away.

Answer the questions
To get what you need --
Maybe, if we decide
To do this good deed..

This is the
Disabled life
Rife with these
Questions

So casually
Asked
Each casualty
Masked

While we struggle
And strive
To stay
Alive.

Your life
Doesn't have to
Be perfect
For you to
Be proud --

So sayeth
Naya Rivera

In fact
She said
The less perfect
It is --
The more proud
You can be.

So I am --
And I'll be.

Why in the hell
Is it
The first
Inclination
Of parents
Of kids
With CP
To go
Directly
To the
Most
Invasive
Option?

Are you in
A little pain?

Maybe?

Let's cut you
Open
Actual baby
Your
"Normalcy"
Supercedes
What is actually
Best
For you.

What?

You need
Gentleness?

No, I don't think so.

I worry about your
Very natural
Reaction
To being tired
And overwhelmed.

I worry about
The evidence
Of CP
That I see.

So, let's cut some
Nerves
Because
All of the
Nerve
Belongs to me --
So you have
None left
For yourself.

You will feel better,
Baby.

(Or is it me
Who will
Feel better
When my
Child's
Identity
Is cut
Away
Piece
By
Piece?)

Hi, hello
Yes?
It's me

Back to
Write more
Poetry

Sure I've ruined
A thousand
Trees

With all
The paper
Poems
Have seen.

From the
Ground up
Its poems
Are leaves

That's how
They grow,
The
Poet trees.

Nervous
Waiting
Learning to
Hope for the
Best case scenario.

This is hard
When history
Shows
The worst
Case scenario
Is always
What comes
To pass.

So, today, I try
As I learn
To hold
Hope in my hands
About the future.

Hope is hard
But we
Can do
Hard things.

Who let
The pets out
And who let
Them play

Hide and seek
In the storm
In the world
That I made?

Because
If we wait
For light --
For good --

To celebrate
Then
We never
Would.

So make your
Own light
Find some
Way

To shine
Right where
You are
Today.

By the light
Of this
Night

I remember
The child
I was --

Very
Nearly
Lost
From sight.

The night before
Things almost
Changed
For good.

The night before
I had no clue
What would happen
Or what should.

The night before
I was far from shore --
Spun, submerged
And nothing more --

No air to breathe
No way to break
The surface or to
Take
Me out
Of where I've been --
This place
I'm in.

You were just
A child, too
You're the one
Who came through
You're the one who
Stayed here
"Help is on the way,
Dear!"

Never should have
Had to
And still this truth
Remains true:

I'm here today
Because of you.

Normalize
Perspective-shift
Changing of opinions

Normalize
Growing
More evolved

Normalize
Knowing when
To stay in
Our own lanes

Knowing when
To listen
And when
To stay silent

Normalize
Apologizing
When we make
Mistakes

We can change
Grow, know
When to stay silent
And when
To speak.

Use us.

Look upon us.

Do this
To bolster
Yourself.

Take us.

Make us
Your commodity --
The irony's
Not lost
On me.

We are not
Framed
With the same
Respect.

Hands take
Us.

They drag
Us.

They make
Us.

They don't ask
Our consent
They don't ever
Relent
In trying to force
Us

Into their boxes
Where
Suffocation
Locks us.

It isn't fair
Won't let us out
So we must
Free ourselves.

Let us breathe
Some real
Damn
Air.

My wheelchair
Is my body
So Alice Sheppard
Said

These words
Strike me
Rise in me
Make sense to me
Because
I still have legs
(The ungendered kind)
With me

My wheelchair
Is my body

Don't touch it
Unless I trust you
Don't push me
Unless I know you

It supports me
It moves me
It frees me

My wheelchair
Is my body...
Best words
I've ever read.

Let's talk about
Dissociation
And how it helps us
To survive.

At medical appointments
Ableism joins us
With objectification --
And when we object to this
Subhuman treatment --
We are labeled
Noncompliant.

We have value
Because we live
Why isn't
That enough?

Why must we always
Rise above
To prove
Our worth?

We are worthy
Because
We are
Alive.

Interdependence
Has cultural significance
For disabled folx
Who rely upon it
For survival.

We are told
And shown
And reminded
Time and
Time and
Time
Again

That what we require
This helping each other
Is somehow too much
Because we
Are too much.

But
Guess what?

It's not too much
And neither are we --
Even though
We are told
And ignored
And dismissed
And shut down.

Even though
We are blamed
For what's called
"Internalized ableism"
That always
(Always)
Originates
Outside us
First.

We thrive
And depend on
And believe in
Interdependence
Because
It is the only way
Any of us
Survives.

We love the crap
Out of each other
Because we know
If we don't,
Who will?

It's a little bit freeing
Seeing me
Being me

Not hiding
Anymore
Behind a mask

Of a smile
Denial a
Mile wide.

It was self-protective
And I understand it
I can't reprimand it

For coming
Around.
Because it served

A purpose --
I already knew this --
So thanks but I

Got this
New honesty
Thing.

When
We can't see the end
Of quarantining
Of the keening
Of the leaning
Of this time
We're in

There's no right
Time or way
Or thing to say
To help us
Cope with this
Unprecedented
Lack of hope

That fits us
Like a skin too
Large
Falling
At our feet
Too steep
And never
Free of charge

Maybe
I can't
Bear to lose you

And maybe
You
Are already gone

Maybe
You are
Aging up
Somewhere

And maybe
You are 35
Now
Nowhere

Everywhere

Wherever
You are.