Involuntary Cures

My dearest, well-meaning Professional,

Please do not press your cures

upon my body.

Have you ever thought that I might not be sick

Or that the parts of me you see as broken

are not the parts I want to change?

I often wished when I was younger

that if I touched someone’s skin

I’d have the ability to feel their body,

their pain and their joy,

as if it were my own.

But where is my right to feel another’s self?

It’s theirs, and I have no ground to demand it’s proof

Sometimes the only thing we can truly claim as ours

is our pain.

My only power can be to listen as they explain,

as best they can, in the fumbling inaccuracy of words

their lived experience.

My only power is to put aside my assumptions, put aside what I Know

and let them show me their truth

in whole or in part, as they wish.

I would not invade their physical body with my own

and so I ask you

Dear Apothecary,

do not to invade me with your assumptions, medicines and cures.

I do not want to be whole.

My truth is not whole

but imperfect and broken

like the world around it.

Do not try and cure me, good Doctor, but let me grow

twisted, abnormal and malformed

and show you my broken and imperfect

beauty

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