The day I was diagnosed
All seemed to end
And perhaps in some way
It did.
It is hard to watch a little girl
Innocent, wide-eyed
Being pulled away by her mother
From you
As if you are a monster
Yet only minutes ago
A heavy weight
Was placed upon your shoulders
And you can barely breathe.
Your body; no longer feels your own
Your brain; no longer functions
Your eyes; an ocean of tears
Your innocence; taken.
The way the mother stared,
As they passed by that
Pale yellow hospital room.
You feel like a monster too.
The day I was diagnosed
All seemed to end
And perhaps in some way
It did.
Friendships as long as I could remember
Abruptly ended.
“Ew, that’s disgusting”
As a response to my only way to live.
Adults with pitied eyes,
Others pretending to understand
“My second cousin had it”
As if that could ever make them understand.
I felt utterly alone.
I felt unaccepted.
But as time passed
I learned to ignore, to forget
What those irrelevants had done
And removed them from my life.
I learned how to be happy;
With myself
With my body
With my mind
And if I am a monster
Then who are you to care.
The day I was diagnosed
All seemed to end
And perhaps in some way
It did.
It was the end of my old life,
In which I was surrounded by
The pathetic fraud of others
Pretending to be happy.
And in this end,
A new life started
In which I have found happiness
And, through all the hardships
All the pain and all the tears,
It was, all, for the better.