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A recurring sense of grief

A passing of myself

Pushing my physical limits

To face daily life

Detached from my body

Dissociated, numb

My body keeps me safe from the physical pain of being

By turning off

Disability brings a repeated grief for oneself

There is no reason why

This is no one’s fault

There is nothing you could’ve done

This suffering just is

Again and again

Further

My frail body is the ultimate teacher

Stripped down to the core of myself

By grieving away the parts of me

I can hold no more

When you can no longer do the things you considered you

What are you now?

When you can do nothing,

What is your value?

Intrinsic and infinite

Yet we live in a world with a fetish for definition

You can only be

And that is beautiful

Full of awe

Powerful enough to crush any other notion

I am 29 years old

And I am prepared to be old,

Wise,

And next to death