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Spine

A disability poem

By Josey PickeringPublished 2 years ago 1 min read
Spine
Photo by Joyce McCown on Unsplash

My nerves ache

my vertebrae shift

like the spine of a well read book.

Open and exposed

too many times.

Scalpel to flesh,

metal to bone,

sliced to find

my foundation has cracked.

The roads I’ve walked

can no longer hold me

and my legs can no longer

walk the paths meant for me.

My bones twist,

joints gnarled.

I dreamed of dancing through stars

and now I can only watch them from

my place on earth.

I am trapped by

the birdcage of my body.

Rooting into my perch

like some sort of tree,

my own broken back bonsai.

Thank you for reading! I’m a disabled, autistic author and poet and I appreciate every reader who graces my account.

performance poetry

About the Creator

Josey Pickering

Autistic, non-binary, queer horror nerd with a lot to say.

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