Poison

Every time I try to do something,

something appears ahead of me.

“You should do it like this.”

“This will make it easier.”

Those impertinent things keep cutting into my view.

In that moment, my movement stops.

I can go and get what I need myself.

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I know what I need.

And yet, it is prepared for me.

As if I am assumed to be incapable.

No.

I can.

I just have a slight disability.

That’s where I need support.

I don’t want things made for everyone to be handed to me.

To me, they are poison.