The officiousness of your interrogation –
tones of authority (masking ignorance) –
unnerve me, conjuring memories
of past violations; re-victimizing.
Proclaiming concern whilst fishing –
probing deviations; implying blame;
I am aroused to counterattack;
dis-abled, not dis-armed.
You think I chose this abduction,
wittingly willed myself crippled,
invited helplessness: laid down
and tolerated this life-invasion?
I find your tactics bullying, bordering
dubious, and revert to adolescence –
a surrogate adult, hyper-vigilant
in my self-protective backlash.
Your judgments are incredulous,
like a petulant child you protest
efforts to quiet unwanted advice
insist upon your righteousness.
If I was able to dislodge this ball
of stifled rage, I’d educate you on
the differences between support
and impertinence – but I am tired.
Strong-armed into submission,
I am left raw, newly battered,
maliciously wishing retribution,
cold-shouldering instead.
Is it the precariousness of current
suffering that has ruptured caring
or present reality that has shattered
the pretense of so-called friends?
Repercussions of confrontation,
(vows suddenly lacking promise)
weaken already tenuous success,
undermine self-actualization.
I only wish you’d understand that
although life has raped me, I am
stretching my wings, awakening,
cherishing, for once, self-worth.
In my new-found sensibility, I will
re-evaluate, and re-value meaning,
discern and select empowerment,
embrace (and reject) relationship.
Infirmity, you see, has advantages –
obliging new perception, discounting
material trickery, retiring innocence-
wisdom gained a just rebuttal.
One Woman's Quest 