I’m told that every day that I live is a miracle,
So why don’t I feel like one?
And who are you to tell me that? What great accomplishment do you count it to rise once more from bed?
Don’t put me on a pedestal.
It pulls me down
Below you.
Your spotlight, brilliant and blinding, prepares the world for a star of the stage. I am merely
A supporting role.
I deserve to be
Just another person.
You think this chair creates a divide. Do you not see yourself in me?
I live, eat, breathe, sleep.
When we sleep, do we not all dream?
I laugh, cry, love.
Do we not all love?
I will one day die.
And when death comes, are we not all the same: frail, weak, timid?
So don’t tell me, “You’re special, brave, an inspiration.”
I’m so much
Less than you make me.
Look past what I am,
And see who I have been all along:
Your reflection.