Four Points

As a writer, it feels like an accomplishment when an evil man like Liam T. Yore is so threatened by your eloquence that he tries to have you put in jail for a poem. Yes, Liam succeeded in having a judge revoke my first amendment right to call his barbaric behavior "sexual assault." While I am still of the opinion that it was, because well, if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it's a fucking duck.... I will change my language to confront what he did to me in different terms. Since he was my doctor at the time, I will call it patient abuse. Since he himself has blogged that mental health patients are "Just Crazy" and "are last on the list for a reason" (http://allbleedingstops.blogspot.com/2016/02/a-better-way-to-think-about-altered.html),

I am also going to call it a stigma-based bias-motivated hate crime. Furthermore, I am going to assert that I agree with the international criminal courts in referring to forced nudity as a form of torture (https://www.justsecurity.org/31325/forced-nudity-international-law-practice/), and given that ER best practices guidelines banned the practice in 2005, I am also going to call it willful ignorance and medical malpractice ( http://www.ndrn.org/images/Documents/Issues/Community_integration/NDRN_emergency_standards_all_together.pdf).

So, you win Liam. I won't call the action of forcibly removing my clothing and using my stigmatized disability as an excuse, a sexual assault. I will no longer call you a sexual predator. I will call you a bigot. Is that better? 

And now for another piece I call "Four Points". I wonder how long it will take little Liam to call the cops because he is such a coward that he can't handle a 90lb girl's poetry.

Four Points

These heavy chains were forged to contain me

blankets woven to keep me warm

walls that lock with doors to confine me

they'll call it "safety" while doing me harm

As commodities go, compassion's expensive

and people like me, we don't get to complain

expected to sink deeply into our station

they  just don't see us as real human beings

Tears fall and dry on our faces like rain-drops

but crying no longer brings any relief

they'll act like I'm making mountains of mole-hills

they're too numb inside to understand grief

Making my fears so much more real than ever

triggering memories of the abuse

once you know trauma, you'll know it forever

trying to stand up, but there's just no use

Stigma's a mountain-top I cannot summit

the other side's always where I want to be

but prejudice, it comes with my diagnosis

therapy never brought any relief

I think I struggle because the world's ugly

I have been bullied and beaten and shamed

I'm just reacting to all that I'm seeing 

calling out bigots to ruin their names

You feel the same things that I do but keep them

just under your breath so that no-one will hear

all I have done is adjusted my volume but

when I speak up they just react with fear

I'm not the person they've made me out to be

they treat us like we're all one and the same

like I should be judged on the actions of others

and categorized and dismissed as insane

Don't they realize that we're people with feelings

our bodies hurt just like everyone else

four-point restraints and disrobement by force

tortured and brutalized, libeled, defamed

When were they over-turned, our human rights

they were taken away and I wasn't aware

so now we must fight to remind cops and doctors

that reliving trauma should not be called "care."