Me and my hidden disability:

by Eve Roome

It isn’t a disorder nor a diagnosis
It’s just me
And you might never even know it
It’s not something you can see
But what you see might not be what you get
It’s just me and my hidden disability

A glance, a stare
Judging from all directions, it’s everywhere
The anxiety grips, fogs the brain
The doubts, the questions sending me insane
Its tentacles wrap through my mind
Am I being too cold, too kind

But you look at me
And no-one can see
The doubts that bring me to my knees
The self-consciousness buzzing in my
mind like bees
So I cast myself to the mountains
and trees Try to relax and feel the breeze

They don’t expect it
So they won’t accept it
But that just worsens it
And I’m left to deal with it

If only there was somewhere we
could all be free
From the eyes that look but don’t see
If only there was a place for me
For me and my hidden disability
©Eve Roome