They Just Stare

You sit there upright in your chair and people just stop and stare. They talk to me like your not there as though talking to you they don’t dare. They don’t see the pain in your face they think you should always have good grace. Then there’s the others who want to race even though they couldn’t keep up the pace, they will only remember your chair they haven’t even registered your face. 

Then come the questions you know the ones I mean, will she get better and how long it’s been, obviously  the person they haven’t seen. We tell them we have children, they are very keen then comes the question we all dread the one we play back time and again in our head. How do you manage you know to have you know to do it. I wish they would go. I can’t help the reply I say it so Rye, at your age I thought you would know. That did it a direct hit, now they are feeling a bit of a tit, now they start to go . But it’s not long before the next bit of a bore asked do you know so and so.  

They think you must know cos he is like you must be some kind of queue, maybe they think there is only one or two so you know them all and they know you.  The person is behind us in the queue so no chance of make a u and getting away fast and some peace at last. It’s almost like your from a different class, not really an adult or a human but then what gives them the right to ignore you and treat you like an animal in a zoo. I wish they would all see you as you. 

Subclass 

Media tells us you sit around all day on your ass lambasted cos you are a subclass. No real value no real worth why were you put on this earth. You don’t work you are seen as a jerk no right to live to be, to survive seen as a skive why are you alive. 

You did not choose to be in that chair, fate put you there, people stop and stare glad they are not there. Why should they care they have not been there. They think they know the pain, think it’s all a game and you are lame. Society would sooner embrace fame while for the subclass nothing will change. Seen as not normal you must change cos you don’t fit our stereotype cos we listened to all the hype. 

No one gives you a  chance for your life to enhance and  let you be the best you can,but please remember you are more than an empty can, you are a fellow man. So while they sit in their ivory tower, trying to exsert their power. They should think about how they would manage if they had sustained this physical and mental damage.

You are tough and never complain when it’s rough even when your body has had enough. Yet you get up every day, no prospect of any pay, medicines swallowed all day just to keep the pain at bay. It’s all just another day, you wish it wasn’t this way but it will never go away. So don’t judge or  throw people  away as you could be them one day. 

The Comment

comment

Every time I hear that comment it rips into my heart and every time you say it again it tears my soul apart. I am not good at many things in total or in part, I’ve tried it all from chemistry to art. But all the time you undermine and cut into my mind.

I thought when I left school I had left it all behind, but the world sees I’m fat and that’s how I’m defined: my love; my humour; my kindness and my pain all these things are part of me to which you are blind. I’m not asking you to be nice and kind, I just want you to stop cutting into my mind.

Let me leave the pain behind, of my past I don’t want to be reminded yet you bring back my raw memories with every word and obscenity. You seem to know just where to throw those words of hate and spite, that decimate my being and make me all uptight.

You won’t stand in front of me in case I start to fight, with thirty years of hurt in side waiting to take flight. One little warning to you one day it just might