Great things are not done by impulse, but by a series of small things brought together – Vincent Van Gogh

Disabled Femininity

disfigured bodies

forsaken womanhood,

yet our wombs cry,

tears of blood,

our bellies yearns to swell,

our breasts crave to feed,

our stumpy arms long to caress,

the flesh of our flesh, blood of our blood,

but our femininity is lost among the dark sludge of your morality.

We long for love, to give it,

to feel it grow within,

our mauled bodies refuses to accept us, an afterthought,

so we shred the days and nights to seconds,

grope within the crevices,

and pray to be found,

all we come up with are spirogyra like desires,

leeches that suck the aspirations from our souls,

for our femininity is lost among the dark sludge of your morality.

I wrote this poem after a heard that a severely disabled girl had become pregnant, out of wedlock, and the ruckus this created within her family and our organization since we were in interacted with her. The sexuality of women with disability is an unaddressed question. Most people believe that women with disability have no right to love or want to be loved. We fail to see that these women are only physically disabled not mentally, emotionally, spiritually or psychologically disabled. We non disabled people do not loose an opportunity to sit in judgment of persons with disability and ram our opinions on them.

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