Post by Juana Cookie on Jul 29, 2006 13:05:44 GMT -5
THE ULTIMATE QUESTION
When do we cease being
The People we were,
And become our afflictions?
Is the process so gradual
That we don't notice
As personality merges with disease
And the two become one, in the eyes of the world?
Or have I just forgotten
That there have been changes on the outside,
While I have remained the same, within?
Friends say that they don't treat you any differently,
But they do.
Hugs become fewer, eye contact is avoided.
Lies are told like: "You look great" or
"We have to get together, sometime"
While they scurry away, hoping they weren't with you
Long enough to catch something,
Or worse yet,
Make themselves uncomfortable.
Strangers see a wheelchair, and turn
To the person accompanying "it",
And direct all statements and questions to them.
"How is she doing today?" "Does she want a drink?"
No, she wants to scream,
"Talk to me, I'm sitting right here!"
But instead, she makes a joke,
And brushes it off,
Much to the surprise of the offender.
I'm not fragile, and I won't break
If you put your arms around me.
I'm not contagious, and you won't catch anything
By spending a moment, talking.
I may not be able to do a lot of the things
That I used to do.
But I can still laugh. I can cry,
I can celebrate and I can comfort.
And I can feel it
When you turn away from me,
And I can see it,
When you shake your head,
And hear it when you say,
"She had so much promise".
I guess the view is different
From inside of me.
I still know the difference
Between physical limitations
And mental shortcomings.
I still ask the questions
That there are no answers to.
And dream that some day
I will know what all of this was for.
But for today,
I'll go quietly on my way
And leave you to contemplate
Who is stronger...
Me, or the disease?
For if you can only see one of us,
Then you must be the one to choose
Which one you will recognize.
© Josie-Lynn Belmont
When do we cease being
The People we were,
And become our afflictions?
Is the process so gradual
That we don't notice
As personality merges with disease
And the two become one, in the eyes of the world?
Or have I just forgotten
That there have been changes on the outside,
While I have remained the same, within?
Friends say that they don't treat you any differently,
But they do.
Hugs become fewer, eye contact is avoided.
Lies are told like: "You look great" or
"We have to get together, sometime"
While they scurry away, hoping they weren't with you
Long enough to catch something,
Or worse yet,
Make themselves uncomfortable.
Strangers see a wheelchair, and turn
To the person accompanying "it",
And direct all statements and questions to them.
"How is she doing today?" "Does she want a drink?"
No, she wants to scream,
"Talk to me, I'm sitting right here!"
But instead, she makes a joke,
And brushes it off,
Much to the surprise of the offender.
I'm not fragile, and I won't break
If you put your arms around me.
I'm not contagious, and you won't catch anything
By spending a moment, talking.
I may not be able to do a lot of the things
That I used to do.
But I can still laugh. I can cry,
I can celebrate and I can comfort.
And I can feel it
When you turn away from me,
And I can see it,
When you shake your head,
And hear it when you say,
"She had so much promise".
I guess the view is different
From inside of me.
I still know the difference
Between physical limitations
And mental shortcomings.
I still ask the questions
That there are no answers to.
And dream that some day
I will know what all of this was for.
But for today,
I'll go quietly on my way
And leave you to contemplate
Who is stronger...
Me, or the disease?
For if you can only see one of us,
Then you must be the one to choose
Which one you will recognize.
© Josie-Lynn Belmont
