Love, love is a verb.
She was a bullet
Headed straight for my heart.
She is heavy.
She made bad ****.
Tell me something. Something more.
My life hurts.

If only I had tried a little harder
I'd be a size zero like you, mother.
And maybe I'd have the metabolism
Of a teenage horse like my dear brother.
And if I cared enough about what others thought of me
To spend hours in front of the mirror
Applying enough makeup to ruin my flawless skin
While the contents of my closet and dresser drawers
Lay scattered across the bedroom floor
I'd have a baby or two, chubby cheeks and blonde curls,
Instead of graduating high school and attempting college, pretty little cousin.

But I'm not a size zero, mother
And some days I wish I had it in me to starve to death. But I love food too much.
Dear brother, do you think if I had your teenage horse metabolism I'd be able to walk away from this pain?
Because we both know that if I could walk away then I'd run.
And once I started running I'd fly.
Fly so far away from this wrecked earth.
Pretty little cousin, you don't have to try so hard at pretending
Those precious babes are all you wanted out of this life.
It's okay to want more. Do better for yourself. Do better for them.
Just because people expect you to
Spend your life a certain way
Doesn't mean you can't prove them wrong.

They said I needed an electric wheelchair
And a personal care attendant.
Somebody to be with me 'round the clock.
They didn't expect me to be in a regular classroom with the normal kids
But what the hell is normal anyway?
They didn't expect me to go to college, hold a job, live on my own.
They didn't expect me to love another person more than life itself.

Look at me now.

Let's hold out hope for the crippled.
Hope for the crippled?
No thanks, this crip doesn't need your hope.
This crip needs you to stop.
Stop labeling me.
Stop feeling sorry for me.
Stop pitying me and my 'poor life'
Just ******* stop!
No, really, I'm okay. I don't need you.
I don't need you or your miracles.
Don't tell me God works miracles
And to hold out hope
Because maybe one day I'll walk
Or maybe I'll get to see from both eyes
Because God works miracles
But you're too busy fixing what isn't broken that you forget
If I was truly made in his image this crip doesn't need healed.
This crip doesn't need your prayers or miracles.
This crip doesn't need your God or your salvation.
This crip doesn't need your hope.

Poor soul, she's diminished by her disability.
Diminished by my disability?
The only thing I'm diminished by
Is your inability to understand
That before anything else I am human.
I make mistakes and have flaws.
I feel, probably more than most,
And sometimes those feelings get in the way.
I empathize but I am done sympathizing.

You say my wheelchair is a blessing in disguise.
Why can't it just be a blessing?
A blessing that comes with lots of lessons.
Some that I learn the hard way and some that come easy.
But this wheelchair doesn't need a reason
To teach me (or you) a lesson.
Sure, it frustrates me when a wheel breaks or I fall on a broken sidewalk
But it teaches me humility and patience.
And there's no reason to disguise that this wheelchair is a blessing.

So, please take your hope and pity
Your guilt and salvation elsewhere
Because they're defeating the purpose. They're detracting from the point.

I am not diminished by my disability.
I am not to be quieted or pitied
I am not your reason to feel guilty
I am not a burden
I am human.

For days afterward she feels
Numb and diluted; nothing can touch her.
And then a rush of emotion so strong
She's dancing across red rooftops.
Plummeting through the night sky;
Alice chasing her heart down the rabbit hole.
Unafraid of death's sweet oblivion if it means
Forgetting the taste of him. How she comes
Crawling back with just one word.
Manifestation of anger in music:
loud, angry, earth shattering
And finally quiet. Quiet enough
To ease the heaviness of the world.
Words spill out. Questions. Doubts. Apologies.
When the world is spinning alongside
Your head, remember,
You. Me. The world. It was all made to be broken.
Take a sad song and make it better
Because happiness has a violent roar.

Your big brown eyes and kind words
Tear down the walls I raise up
To protect my vulnerability. Pull me
closer and watch the world melt away.
You ask what I'm thinking and I find
I don't have the words to make you stay.
And so I watch you walk away, sad.
But first, you kiss the top of my head
And say, don't cry this time
And so I don't. Glass shatters
Within and whiskey tempts.
I count the hours I should be sleeping
And I swear I can smell your cologne
On my skin as I tell myself, over and over,
Just friends, remember?

You say
This body is a temple
And to treat it well
Because this life
It's the only one we've got
But baby's fat bracelets
And thunder thighs
Never melted away
When she started walking.
And I've stopped wishing
For these heavy legs
To work like they should.
You'd remind me that real
Movement happens within
And to not be in such a hurry
Because maybe there's a reason
This body is broken. My blue mind
Sometimes forgets that karma
Takes time to work itself out.
I just can't see how
I'm supposed to love something
That has never been the source
Of anything good in my life.

James Taylor and lonely sunrises
Make my heart break all over again.
I can't figure out where I went wrong
But my bed and my heart are empty tonight.
You've got God and your wife, she really is lovely,
And I've got scars as bright as the night sky.
A future full of promise and landscapes yet unseen.
Seven years leaves room for a lot of growth.
Here's to yesterday and a love that once was.