Disability resides in me.
It doesn’t matter that I’m a writer,
doesn’t matter that I’m a student,
doesn’t matter that I’m attracted to certain things
or believe in certain things
or dream of certain things.
The purpose of my legs is ornamental,
the reason for my nerves is exaggeration.
Disability resides in me.
Of course it is not my everything;
I am brother and son,
uncle and friend,
fan and failure,
heart and mind.
But this does not change a fact,
does not change my needs,
does not change the truth of a label.
I am not anything less for it, but

disability resides in me.