#disability poetry

[steadfastpetrel]

the sun mourns in vain for the white-throated rail: a comic about disability and the unwanted able-bodied grief for past selves.

[IMAGE DESCRIPTION:

Page 1: The sun holds a white-throated rail, a bird with a red head, a gray body, and a white throat, in its hands. The sun speaks in a tone represented as sorrowful pity through a drippy speech bubble.

Sun: Looking at you makes me sad!

Rail: What?

Page 2:

Sun: Looking at you makes me sad!

The sun stands with a hand clutching its face.

Sun: How miserable it must be to be flightless! Don’t you yearn for the skies? Don’t you wake up grieving you’re still on land?

Page 3: The white-throated rail looks down in frustration in the hand of the sun.

Sun: (speaking off screen) I’d simply perish if I were you!

The rail speaks, looking down. Pink flowers bloom towards the bottom of the page, petals and pollen blowing in the wind.

Rail: Why do you put your words in my beak and your grief in my feathers? Am I not beautiful?

Page 4: The bone of a white-throated rail is positioned against a colorful galaxy dotted with flecks of stars.

Rail: Am I not adaptability in action? Am I not evolution in motion? Do you mourn the days you weren’t a star? Do you mourn when the sky was cold, how unbearably hot you must burn to keep embracing it every day?

Page 5: The sun looks at the viewer.

Sun: Why would I? That was then, this is now. I am content to be in this state.

Page 6: The rail looks up at the sun off-screen.

Rail: Well…So am I.

#disability #disability comic #disability poetry #fibromyalgia #spoonie #spoon theory #ableism #poetry #comic #comics #visual poetry #cripple punk #chronic illness

[trick-of-the-troubles]

this world that has promised so much has delivered so little

because the people who made this world did not make it with us in mind

and the people who had the power to change the flawed system have instead chosen again and again to do what's easy rather than what's right

and it's hard living in a world that didn't think of you in the first place

and you deserve better than to be an afterthought

and i love you

and i'm sorry

#i wrote this when i was upset and exhausted at like 2am #was thinking about editing it to flow better but i think that the more direct emotion/original version is better #this could apply to many things i think but i wrote it with physical disability in mind #dont worry about derailing - this post can be about whatever you need it to be about /gen #disability #disabled #physical disability #cpunk #physically disabled #cripple punk #chronic illness #chronic pain #writing #creative writing #disability poetry

[yrfemmehusband]

Hi sorry I didn't respond I wasn't feeling well yeah sorry I'm moving slow I'm sick today thanks for understanding I'm just feeling sick right now sorry I can't go I'm sick again I'm really sorry please I'm so sorry I don't feel well I'm sorry I haven't talked to you i haven't been well please don't forget about me I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry im sorry im sorry im sorry im sorry im sorry im sorry im sorry

I'm just feeling a little sick right now.

#chronic illness art #chronic illness posting #disability poetry #chronic pain #endometriosis #fibromyalgia #internalized ableism #vent #i went home from work sick today and everything is bubbling up because i felt ashamed for it #it was warranted my whole body was spasming i had a migrane i was nauseous and couldnt eat butnit was embarrassing i cried n had a meltdown

[batwynn]

Autoimmune Antagonist

There’s something catastrophic In me that wants a new tattoo. Something eating from the inside out That remembers the million bee stings. That knows it would continue eating until limbs were lost Until the body was wholly gone. That creature begs for each scar to be eviscerated by needles. Branded by images over broken flesh. Fuck the consequences. Let my blood bleed with ink And the black and blue birds skitter across my stained bones.

#poetry #disability #disability poetry #disability art #autoimmine disease #pyoderma gangrenosum

[hellyeahsickaf]

Please call me a burden.

Tell me there's no value in a life so worthless as as mine.

Tell me the words that once replaced my stories at bedtime.

Reminds me of home, cruel and twisted as they may seem.

As then for once you could say what you truly mean.

But you're such a good person, never capable of hate.

"Burden" and "Worthless", you don't like how they taste.

Too bitter for your palette, you only allow them in sprinkles.

Instead of "You make me drink", bottle in hand you blame me for your wrinkles.

"You're destroying my health" somehow is holier than "I'll kill myself".

Are you more righteous to imply me a worse threat than a gun on your shelf?

A cup of sugar, two even and still your deceit rots, it ferments

"I just love you," reeks of death, stains your breath, it's not what you meant.

Does your halo glow when you thinly veil resentment as concern?

Woe is you, for I could only be free once I'm confined to an urn.

Oh you're so strong, a valiant warrior I could never be.

You, not me, the biggest victim of what's been taken from me.

You claim I'm mistaken, others will judge a term like "crazy".

"You could do so much better, you don't try" you bite back "useless" and "lazy"

But you refuse to call me a burden, that's just not who you are.

Rather lie, say it with softer words that leave deeper scars.

How could you blind yourself as if it's not worse by far?

When in evading what stings you opt for a slow char?

Are you such an angel when you don't allow so much as a word in?

With every item in the dictionary crossed off with the exception of "burden"?

#ableism tw #never posted one of these before i get scared lmfao #sui tw #tw abuse #poetry #chronic pain #chronic illness #disability #fibromyalgia #cfs #chronic fаtiguе ѕуndrоmе #actually disabled #spoonie #me/cfs #cfs/me #long covid #disability poetry #cripplepunk #cpunk #okay to reblog #okay to interact

[poeticallydisgraced]

Have I spent all my live in apnea? Ignore these daggers pointing at my lungs. This blue toned hue and stridor mean nothing to you. Ignore the loss of consciousness, ignore every god damn thing even if I’m dying. Sigh and huff: find out the cause begrudgingly. Death to Life to Death to Rebirth. Growth to Tumor, to Rebirth again.

#poems by me #poemsbyme #kinda poetry #vent poem #severe croup #medical ptsd #medical trauma #medical malpractice #disability poetry #original poem #poetry

[laneaconite]

She wanted to break the cycle

I told her I won’t have kids, "‘Cause the chronic pain’s hereditary," laugh half mirth.

She cries, “I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.” And it’s the 3rd cigarette she’s lit this phone call. Said she didn’t care about Christmas this year except what she sent to me, her mom, my sisters.

I look up from the calendar I’m marking, only 7 painful days away from 500.

Show my smile and say, “Mom, momma. It’s okay, it’s not like I wanna die. I’m a jack of all trades—I’ve got plenty left to live for."

-Lane Aconite

December 20th, 2023

#poetry #my work #lane archives #chronic pain #chronic migraines #disability poetry #not even sure this one makes sense without the tags context but rhetorically analyze me I dare u #today is day 599 of the same migraine actually so #this is poignant in a very specific way #cycle refers to the cycle of generational abuse if that ain't clear #I like this one because it's mostly correct grammar but part colloquial #spoken & written grammar have different rules factually #irl I'm just out there saying shit

[owlbloop]

I have traded my hope for pride

Whether the world burns

I will care that at the end I am standing

Pride might be more fragile

Than the spider threads of hope

But it will build me a dome

Seven hundred layers thick

Hope cannot protect me

From icy words and burning blood

In a lifetime it will catch me too little

To live through the decade

But pride?

Pride is earned by my hands

By my living and laughing

In a world that would see me dead before safe

And I have earned it a countless times

By fighting the venom in my ribs

And in my memories

Walking a fraying rope

I deserve to be proud of how far I've come

From the kid who hid under the bed

Who fell for every lie

Who no one believed when they cried

I deserve to be proud of the hundreds of pages

Written by blistered fingers and dotted

By water and bloodstains

That fought nightmares and the urge to tear

I deserve to be proud of having friends

Despite the relentless fear

That I will be left, turned on, forgotten

That they have gone from zero to a handful

I deserve to be proud of trying

Even if I failed or went too far

That I stared at this messy world

And one day found unstable land

And I deserve to be proud of waking up

Of eating, talking, wanting

Through aching ribs and spinning eyes

To do it all again

So no, I will not have hope

For something I cannot hold or see

For what is impossible

And what is far beyond complete

I will take pride

And let it tell me

That I am succeeding in living at all

#disabilities #disabled #disability #physical disability #mental disability #multiple disabilities #disabled writer #poetry #poem #writing #mental health #ableism #disability poetry #pride #self love #self positivity #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writers and poets #writerscommunity #original poem #poets on tumblr #original poetry #poems on tumblr #poems and poetry #Poems #tw blood #blood mention #death mention tw #prejudice tw

[hanslwrites]

framework

i am the very definition of self-destructive i say, with no shame it's automatic, symptomatic simply, a fact of life unfair and terrible and mine to claim

who was i meant to be if not this i don't regret anything i wouldn't change a thing wouldn't risk all i have for a different person in the making because this made me me

i am the very definition of broken but i am not wrong i view the world from another angle unexpected but sorely needed my time is limited but i'm not ready to be dismissed

i am not brave when i suffer when i merely persist as if it's even a question i am brave when i tell people where to go when i tell people no

#poetry #poetryblr #poets on tumblr #hansl poetry #disability #chronic illness #autoimmune disease #acceptance #disability acceptance #disabled anger #disabled rage #no regrets #ableism #disabled poet #disabled poetry #disability poem #disability poetry

[rachelbracepoetry]

I spent spent years in the dark trying to keep dreams and futures alive. I learned that sometimes you need to put them into something to be stored for later. I wove my dreams into everything I made, so that someday I could run my fingers across a blanket and feel them sing.

#poetry #poem #poets on tumblr #poems on tumblr #rachelbracepoetry #disability poetry #disability representation #spilled ink #hopeful poems #poems for the soul #words words words

[laikacore]

i miss you like a wound in my chest

the kind you ignored, the kind you

stared at your phone for hours over

while i writhed in pain unknown

the kind i went to the hospital for

the kind i nearly lost my life

and livelihood over

the kind that pushed me into

fearing the whole wide world

losing friends, losing love, losing

every open hand extended to me

do you know how strong i would be

if this wound would just heal up?

but the beating of my heart

the thin membrane around it

squeezing, inflamed

aching in pain

i am hiding inside, still as always

and i miss you like the night

untitled by laika wallace

#disability poetry #agoraphobia #codependency #abusive relationship

[trick-of-the-troubles]

quick poem thing that I wrote to get out some pent up emotions

-

I feel as though my bones are trying to hatch

I fear that my limbs desire to detach from my torso and run off on their own

I worry my hands have the urge to craft things that I cannot have

I'd imagine a life on any other body would be better for the components I'm made of

It often feels as though someone stitched me together, cobbled out of loose parts that don't quite fit together as one

I feel like a puppet made from scrap material, held up by the strings that I have to tie to myself every day

My body is a poorly-oiled machine, condemned to run on software that wasn't made for it

I am a failed design

#disability #disabled #physical disability #physically disabled #cpunk #cripple punk #heds #chronic illness #hypermobile ehlers danlos #disability vent #original poem #poem #disability poetry #vent poetry

[crowned-in-stone]

fierce ache. sing of the snapshot life: we echo blurry at the end of winter it runs before my eyes, does cartwheels, this life of mine

the blood, the rib, the heel, the wrist, the bone, the brain, the flame, the ash, the stone,

sing of the stories that they told, the murder on their mouths, the millions of aches, the way we all are wounded. sing of love with the whole wide world.

i am the ghost of the girl who was meant to have this body− she drowned upstate, bled dry, burned up and down and out. she was born a ghost, and there was only ever me and my choir, interlopers all. no one will ever know all of me, i fear. i contain too much: a fire and a flood and a whirlwind and a rot. this is as it has been. i disrupt, i annoy all i see. could even i learn all of me? i sing in too many voices. we could never be in unison but for battle cries. battle cries and songs of grief−

i am the hymn to destruction that my mother wrote; she would have had me a gatekeeper. she put seashells in my hands, held me down, told me not to scream−

hands. hands pressed to my anxious ears. shells, returned to the sea. i wash off the blood on my hands. in the distance, thunder. an endless rush of sound. i'll sing of grief tomorrow, the way we all are wounded. i echo blurry in the storm. we like to drown out thought, here.

#poetry #poets on tumblr #vent poetry #jai speaks! #disability poetry

[wither-is-suffering]

I'm disgusting

A grotesque caricature of a human

That's what they all say at least

My heart betrays me, my weak limbs give

My breath never reaches my lungs.

My brain forgets, plays pranks with my nervous system. Makes things manuel.

My blood runs thick and sickly, never having enough of what it needs to function. Organs lay limply in my frame, only cushioned by my viscera.

My eyes see very little, my ears hear not.

My touch is filled with pain, burning but Ice cold.

My body betrays me, leaves me stuck melting in it's cocoon. Skin holds me in, whispers its apologies as it continues to bar me from freedom.

Flesh, tendons, bone, all meant to allow me such graces. Instead they cage me. Keep me stuck in this hollow corpse I possess.

My gangly limbs trip me, harm me, irritate me. I hate everything that makes up "Me".

It's not me, this isn't me. It can't be me.

The pain enrages me, the discomfort tires me, the endless apologies fuel me. I run on hurt, pain and torment. I only live to spite those who made me like this. But who is there to blame? What can I say with certainty broke me? Was I ever in one piece? I can't remember now.

#please understand this is about living with a disabled body and how it effects me. #poem? idk #vent poem #vent poetry #disability poetry #tw ableism #tw ableist language

[scraebble]

Technical Rehearsal

You know, sir, there are bones in my body that are yet to have names. Terrifying elevators, pulling me up.

I am all of this, ballooned. Rooms filled up with furniture that is not my own, rented out to cherry trees.

Together we are plays that will go wrong. Sir, I am uncertain in the seasick theatre, counting all of my rooms.

I am a house, sir. A picture of a house. I am a house, sir. A house with birds.

by Jen Campbell

#poetry #poem #Jen Campbell #Shirley Jackson #(in terms of vibes....) #bones #Houses #Disability poetry #I am uncertain in the seasick theater #I am not disabled and have not had operations on my bones #But I've recently written a short story and furniture inside the body as metaphor featured heavily #This poem really speaks to me on a personal level ;__; <3 #Poetry is magic #The poet has one experience #The reader can recognise and get a feel for the experience.... a glimpse #And at the same time a turn of phrase an image a feeling can open up something deep and personal that is so specific to the reader #Magic #Thank you for this poem...

[poeticallydisgraced]

choking. coughing. wheezing.

lungs burden by too little oxygen and no way to breathe. scar tissue on my throat and crippled lungs leave my soul astray.

take away what I enjoy, let me sleep in unrestful peace.

the chapel will be the rebirth of me and the death of me, prayed for at the hospital chapel and prayed down upon by the one who chokes me.

#poems by me #actually disabled #disabled #disability poetry