Two years ago I was in the back of an ambulance.
I waited in A&E for my turn.
I got out 369 days later.
It was a bloody long turn.
In the first six months I learned:
They could restrain me,
They could drug me,
They could detain me,
But I would survive.
I could survive:
Being forced to eat,
and my heart would still beat.
After the tyranny freedom was elected.
I was no longer an animal- held down and injected.
I found that words made me lighter,
Each time I said or read them I shone a little brighter.
My talents lay in living and not dying
and every step forward is a person I’m defying.
Once it is broken the glass does not fear the floor.
Tell me I shan’t.
Tell me I can’t.
I’ve heard them all before.