Crap poem 39 – Ableode

Hey everyone! Welcome to another poem in my series of Crap Poems.

Today I wanted to write something about the frustration I feel when my lack of ability creates anything negative. Whether it’s my own angry internal thoughts, ignorant comments from others, problems doing regular stuff or just plain old exclusion, it’s just infuriating.

As someone who knows what life felt like to be truly free, energetic and able, finding myself struggling to do the most basic task has been a big adjustment. And not just for me, for my family too.

This poem is dedicated to the rollercoaster of emotions that I feel when the negativity inevitably creeps in.

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Ableode

Screw all of this therapy.

My brain is jumbled junk.

Fuck all this exclusion.

I don’t want to be shrunk.

Who that cares your chatter

makes me feel so small?

Inside my tired, unbalanced mind

i’m twenty two feet tall.

We hate all your judgement.

It shouldn’t now exist.

In fact, we wish these comments

were easily dismissed.

Are you just embarrassed?

Do we make you cringe?

Are stomas, tubes and wheelchairs

the reason that you whinge?

Or is it our scarring?

Our skin based, wounded file

that causes you to head scratch

and wish we were exiled?

Do you really think

a nasty clipped remark

will help us with our pain

or bring back any spark?

Do you think your helping

with heads stuck in the sand?

A hope that we ‘get better soon’,

naive and very bland.

Flowing tears mean nothing,

bones grinding are moot,

most dreams are abandoned,

our story is on mute.

It’s such a huge adjustment

to find that your less able,

desperately trying to exit

this chronic grey turntable.

We all work hard proving

we’re all just as handy

as the able person is.

We still push up the ante.

Judgement clouds our feelings,

comments fuel the hate,

exclusion hurts us deeply,

and it’s your thoughts that dictate.

Sadly we all know now

that you really don’t care.

You just go through the motions

then stand back and stare.

Who are we to turn to?

Who supports our needs?

Society pushes us aside,

and social networks bleed.

We wish we were included

and treated as an equal.

Instead of burning out our fire,

don’t make an unfair sequel.

Life’s building to fruition

and our cost is this penance.

The thoughts you force upon us,

when we just want acceptance

But when we meet our maker

we can tell them straight –

we’re broken but we’re trying.

Now, have you ramped your gate?

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Thanks for reading 💜 🦽