[UN]detected Motion 

On good days, I move like anyone else 
                         (they assume) 
On bad days, I calculate each step like complex options 
                        (they never see) 

Hiding the invisible hunger of my gnawing pain: 
   Take pill 
      Wait thirty minutes 
         Attempt movement 
            Gauge the hurt 
               Recalibrate 

My days are usually planned in careful sequences 
Each decision a domino that might 
trigger a cascade      of consequences 
             later                  tonight 
                         or tomorrow 
                                    or next week 

"But you look fine" —— translation: 
"Your suffering lacks credibility" 

My wellbeing has become a contested topic
My pain lacks admissible evidence 
My testimony is labeled hearsay 

In the silent moments between words, 
I harbor entire catalogs of aesthesis 
that language fails to capture 

Listen: 
Can you hear it? 
My screams for survival 
playing in the frequencies 
beyond your perception 



Diagnostic Fragmentation 

Patient displaying signs of ________________ 
Test results show ____________ within normal range 
Further investigation required [PENDING] 
Follow-up in ____________ months 

I am becoming 
a collection of 
   [disembodied symptoms] 
   [inconclusive tests] 
   [side effects] 
   [appointment dates] 
   [insurance codes] 

My identity is 
   f r a g m e n t i n g 
into data points 
that never quite connect 

When did I become a glitch 
in the medical matrix? 

The doctor asks me to rate my pain on a scale of 1-10 
As if suffering can be quantified 
As if my 7 equals your 7 equals anyone's 7 

They search for visible proof 
I offer my lived experience 
The gap between us widens 

At night I dream of wholeness 
body and soul 
       r e u n i t e d 

In the morning I wake to find 
myself    still    scattered    across    the    bed  



Access/Denied 

[This poem intentionally contains no visual line breaks or punctuations to mirror the 
experience of encountering inaccessible spaces and systems] 

they say accessibility is expensive unreasonable a burden an afterthought a special 
accommodation they say why can't you just they say we'll get to it eventually they say 
budget constraints they say liability concerns they say but nobody else has 
complained they say isn't there someone who can help you they say maybe this isn't 
the right place for you they say we can't make exceptions they say the world wasn't 
built with excuses they say normal people don't need it they say it's just three steps 
they say can't you just try harder they say you don't look disabled they say we're doing 
our best they say it's just policy they say i don't make the rules they say maybe next 
time they say you should have called ahead they say we weren't expecting they say we 
don't usually they say special needs they say special treatment they say special special 
special as if our existence is a privilege and not a right 

[Now with increasing space between words to represent the emotional and physical 
toll of fighting for access] 

my     dignity     is     not     a     luxury     item

my     humanity     is     not     an     inconvenience

my     access     is     not     your     generosity

my     existence     is     not     negotiable

I       am       not       a       problem       to       be       solved

I             belong             here