Unscrewed your lies from inside
my mind
Thwarted unworthiness
which dictated who I was
The runt of some impoverished litter
how dared I not survive?
Otherwise, what does it say about society
when we do not save the least of these?
My existence depends on your benevolence
you pay me in tax from the scraps
you render Caesar
I’m no believer.
Remove your black boot from my neck,
I don’t need your rations, fascist.
I won’t be stranded by your standards
of intelligence or
physique.
Ableism likes its women blade thin
starved till we’re dizzy bled out
and white like glutted milk
for children
it deems we dare not feed
until we fit.
Ableism lets me breathe
provided I am blank and grateful as
a grave made from milestones that pulverized my C-curved spine.
This able life is a lie
cleansed by the Savior who did not die.
I’m saved by His grace.
I don’t have to try, victory’s within me.
!
About the Author: Stacye Robinson
Stacye Robinson received a Master of Arts degree from Ball State University in 2013. She now lives in Indianapolis with her husband Ryne and Robinson.