Stigma

You don’t know how it feels

To have your chest contract

To shake violently

To breathe in shallow gasps

 

You don’t know how it feels

To cry until you have a migraine

To be stiff and unwieldy

And wanting sweet relief so bad

 

You don’t know how it feels

To be racing inside my head

To hear the mockery and abuse

To be torn down again and again

 

If you knew how it felt

You wouldn’t be part of the stigma

You might have more compassion

You would say, “I am here.”

 

© 2017 Valerie Hathaway

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