Works unrelated to the Disability x Sexuality writings
Ode to My Spine
Oh, my twisted petrified cactus, they think they know you don’t they?
Be Mean to Me
Attention, attention, it has come to my attention-
That compared to exclusion and subtleties, an honest ugly reaction has become my preference
Sometimes I wonder
If I weren’t intertwined with trip wires -
If my spine was not stone -
If I grew slightly closer to the sun -
Reaper x Mortality
Pandora’s box opening surrounded me with fog and fear and screams.
Not Your Cherub
Some mistake the burning
embers on my skin as an angelic glow
but when you came closer —
I think I’ve swallowed too much seawater
An array of salts one’s not suppose to digest
Tangible Feelings of Writing
A public diary
Wide eyed child
A quivering exhale
I've been feeling annoyed with myself for having more consistent mosquito bites of resentment towards people the more and more I unpack ableism.
Someone once asked me why I don’t write more about my joy.
I’ve found I am quite poisoned and eroded from grief;
I find myself dipping in deep waters despite knowing I cannot float
Still unsure if I run to feel the high or set my lungs ablaze
When people say my name
Finishing a roll of film
The Leg Thing
I didn’t realize there’s a #scoliosisawareness day. At first I thought it was goofy because I’m pretty sure we’re all aware it exists.
somewhere between optimistic nihilism and light hearted existentialism
Body memory is a strange thing.
You think you’re good to go, with all your sound logic, adaptive emotional intelligence, and level mind.
Sisterly Survivor Guilt
I remember a time, months later, being on all fours
in the middle of the living room floor, screaming at the ground in a full body sob -
Gnarled tree trunk
Indestructible alloy surrounded by softness
Bottomless well of forgiveness