Screams that Make No Sound

Hidden under a stack of labels.

You’ll never find me ‘til you unravel

Me from your tangled web of misconceptions.

I’m not invisible of my own volition;

I’m erased through a series

Of stereotypes, hate crimes, and one-sided histories.

Under pressure my spoons always bend.

They’ll likely snap before you comprehend

I’ve nary a motive that’s ulterior.

My pain’s not visible from the exterior,

But I’m no less disabled

And ageist, sexist ableism won’t be enabled.

I am not yours to fix or replace;

I was never broken, only displaced.

With childhood horrors I was taught not to fret,

Context forced me to creatively circumvent.

You said not to question God,

And once I did, I discovered your love was a façade.