I am broken

But not in the way you think

My cane is just an accessory to me

It’s my mind that is the true issue

The truth is I’m scared

Being like this is hell

But what happens when I gain everything back

Just to lose it all over again

The first time, I put on a brave face

Never letting my loved ones know

I was seconds away from giving it all up

So I would never experience

My grinding, popping, aching, blistering pain

Again

My brain started to cook in my skull,

Serving my thoughts the most poisonous stew

I would gag down every piece of fear-stained flesh

Until I was forced to throw them up in tears

When silence allowed my mind to boil

And the real problem to surface

Because my biggest obstacle was not a disease

That my own father cannot pronounce

A word that at best causes quizzical looks

And at worst caused so-called friends to run in terror

It’s been years and I haven’t conquered a single fear:

That every step could result in breaking me further

That my support system’s elastic patience will finally wear out

That no person will find my broken body attractive enough to deal with my crippled mind

I am broken in ways that narcotics and exercise cannot fix

I am broken in a way that makes me hate every second of introspection

I am broken because I will not let you see inside of me

Worst of all, I am broken because everyone is more scared than I am to deal with my poison