the impercipients
they do not understand
at all, these well-intentioned
scholars with their degrees
and credentials and books
written about people
like us. they attend conferences,
read articles in journals, study
us with fascination and
increasing frustration as they begin
to realize that we are puzzles
not easily solved. uncomfortable
with our scars, they shame us,
call us names in the guise
of diagnoses, assign motives
to our actions, then offer us clinical
recommendations, professional home remedies:
“if you need nurturance, use your voice to ask for it.
if you need release, throw ice against a brick wall.
if you need pain, snap a rubber band against your wrist.
if you need expression, write a poem or draw a picture.
if you need to purge, journal about what you are feeling.”
they believe they are helping,
these people who offer baby
aspirin to us with tumors
on our souls.
the best gift i received
from one of these was
acquiescence – concession
of the battle of wills
and permission
to cut.
Sabrina