by Liel Bridgford
Crash
My body crashes
against white noise waves
I am sinking
into a dead person’s sleep
take me with you, I say
to no wave in particular
a thought I find comfort in
the awareness of this escape
because the body knows
it doesn’t belong
When every doctor, so called health professional say
I am a problem – sorry – I have a problem
it seeps in so deep that
every single one of my bones
feel it
They don’t care about their
missing companions, nor do I,
those bones who went missing
in the cosmos – in another time and space
No –
but my bones here pulse and shake
at the sight of stair-only entry
and cobblestones
my nerves scream at the sounds of saw,
reminded of the one that cut through them
My ligaments flutter with my heart
at the prospect of a group activity
because those other humans –
as close as they may seem,
are a world apart,
living somewhere their bodies fit
leaving me
unfitted
And how does one explain this
no word in either of my languages
is sufficient to express the isolation –
like living behind tinted glass
and every step in your staircase
is a splash
against our ability to see one another
against our ability to touch
against our ability to live
and every sharp-edged feeling –
my anger – scratches the glass
taking us both further
away
Gathered
memories of a kid at school
sticking his leg in front of my crutch
desperate to see me crash – helpless
memories of a doctor
taking liberty with my body
his power and my silence – helpless
memories of them saying I can’t –
watching others live from wobbly benches –
helpless
They live inside me –
every joke about my braces
every stare in the schoolyard
every unwanted touch
every laugh at my pain
every holding of my limbs to comply
with a questionable treatment –
they live inside me like pests
cockroaches crawling under my skin at night
& every stare from you on the street
& every ‘what happened’ –
awaken the cockroaches
the glass is scratched and spattered
living behind it is exhausting
I cannot see you more importantly
you cannot see
me
So my mind thinks again
take me with you
to no wave in particular
and to all of them
all at once
Liel Bridgford is a Psychologist (Provisional), writer, educator, podcaster, and a disability and justice advocate based in Naarm. Her work appears in ABC Arts, MamaMia, We’ve Got This published by Black Inc., and Mascara Literary Review, amongst others. Liel was an ABC TOP 5 Arts resident, Writing Place Editor, and is the creator and host of the (Un)marginalised podcast.
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