She's such a quiet girl
C'mon! Gimme a smile!
Beneath thick amber curls
and cool blue eyes
Lies a firestorm.
I'm a girl who walks in wide steps
who can rebuild a lawnmower, fix a furnace
without a man's watchful gaze.
I can change not one — but two tires in minutes.
I know how to edge.
Watch yourself
I'll paint you into a corner.
She stays in line.
Keeps production moving.
Never loses composure
even when the deadline looms.
She signs off in purple ink.
I'm not afraid to fall apart,
I'm terrified.
Some days I feel the pavement
beneath my feet
and in a whisper
it dissolves
wet sand between my toes.
But she's so solid, the say.
What a shock!
We never saw it coming.
Hmmm ... she must be looking for attention
Otherwise, what does it say about us?
What you don't know ...
I'm glad I wore black pants today because I pissed myself during the one-hour commute. Even limiting myself to one cup of coffee is no match for my daily dose of Neurontin.
What you don't know ...
I hang the Sunday comics over the window on my office door so you can't see me cry when I can't concentrate.
What you don't know ...
The scar on my wrist isn't from my mother's cat. It evolved over years. My nails picking away against bone, like steady water on stone.
What you don't know ...
I changed cigarette brands a half-dozen times hoping it would stop the burning on my tongue before realizing it was a side effect from increased lithium.
What you don't know ...
When I'm on my meds
I'm allllll good
When I'm on my meds
I sometimes slip
When I'm on my meds
I wield the whip
When I'm on my meds
The world can manipulate, distort perception of love/hate
When I'm on my meds
I'm bound by chains
When I'm on my meds
I'm *not* protected from pain
When I'm on my meds
Tears continue to fall
When I'm on my meds
I still fear losing it all
But
When I'm on my meds
I know
I have
a chance.
May 17, 2008, Leaven Center
Eighth Annual Retreat for Disability Activists