Myth of the Disability

By Mae Zhao ’18

 

ADHD, ADD, Dyslexia, Dyscalculia, Dysgraphia.

I am not what you see–you only see half.

I am two faces, and I know you are too,

If those words earlier meant anything to you.

I write this poem for those left in the shadows,

Drowning this lonely dark lake.

Weighed down by bricks of busy bees,

Bitter blue pills,

And floating letters.

Our battles are ones only we can fight.

Wielding weapons made of

Resilience and isolation

We defeat our obstacles

And carve the face that

The others see.

Gone are the scars of the hours more

Poured into everything we do.

Dry are tears that used to flow freely,

Hidden underneath a hardened mask.

It’s a world that only we know:

A world that others can’t understand,

And will never understand.

We travel an epic journey

On a lonely road

Tough and full of nails,

Keeping us from swimming,

From sprinting,

From climbing.

But it’s also a beautiful one

Full of life

Full of color,

Where the smallest flutter can bring us laughter,

And the slightest smirk can bring the greatest

Happiness and warmth.

We linger on the details,

Find the adventures along the beaten path,

Savor the sweetness of summer time bliss

While it lasts.

You may have one pair of eyes,

But we have ten!

Sure, we may be slower, and

Our path may be a bit longer,

Harder,

Stranger.

But when our world is so busy,

The splotches and blemishes,

Fade away and blend

Into the bright bursts of yellow and orange.

It’s a lovely world,

But a world that only we see,

Its ours,

But also only mine.

For in the end,

It’s a world we cannot share,

No matter how blissfully sweet.

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